Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkmenistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soft Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Martian,
The Young Rascals,
AZ,
Laurel Aitken,
The Evens,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
Moby Grape,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
In Retrospect,
The Stooges,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minor Threat,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sparks,
Depeche Mode,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Siglo XX,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dead Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerri Chandler,
Toni Rubio,
Tom Boy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Loose Ends,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
Rosa Yemen,
Swell Maps,
Blancmange,
Camouflage,
Peter & Gordon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Clarke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Pantaleimon,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.