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 Eritrea and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Y Pants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Excepter,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
Sarah Menescal,
Whodini,
Joe Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sixth Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Archie Shepp,
Essential Logic,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Flag,
Mr. Review,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Urselle,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Toasters,
Con Funk Shun,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Skatalites,
Alison Limerick,
Roxy Music,
Metal Thangz,
Lungfish,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dual Sessions,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fugs,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
Panda Bear,
Hardrive,
Tim Buckley,
Blake Baxter,
ABBA,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Hood,
Marine Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Grey Daturas,
The Divine Comedy,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.