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 Morocco and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Sonics to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
a-ha,
Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
Porter Ricks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Pole,
Hardrive,
Little Man,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
Dawn Penn,
The Young Rascals,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
The Slackers,
Audionom,
Wasted Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Wire,
Blossom Toes,
The Associates,
Peter and Kerry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Green,
Gerry Rafferty,
cv313,
T.S.O.L.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Litter,
Thee Headcoats,
kango's stein massive,
Supertramp,
The Saints,
Maleditus Sound,
Section 25,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Drexciya,
Bluetip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kurtis Blow,
Derrick May,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Womack,
Suburban Knight,
Fela Kuti,
Letta Mbulu,
The Tremeloes,
Essential Logic,
The United States of America,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.