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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Evens,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crispian St. Peters,
Steve Hackett,
Peter and Kerry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
Eurythmics,
The Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Spandau Ballet,
Unwound,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Busters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Depeche Mode,
Isaac Hayes,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
June Days,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Simply Red,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
Josef K,
Suicide,
New Order,
Pussy Galore,
F. McDonald,
Lightning Bolt,
Livin' Joy,
Ludus,
Y Pants,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Derrick May,
Agitation Free,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.