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 Papua New Guinea and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hardrive,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Blossom Toes,
Faraquet,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skarface,
The Zeros,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
Scrapy,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
Tres Demented,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Certain Ratio,
Pylon,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
E-Dancer,
Scott Walker,
Young Marble Giants,
Junior Murvin,
Scan 7,
Sparks,
kango's stein massive,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Gong,
The Pretty Things,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Graham Central Station,
Lyres,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed,
John Lydon,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Easy Going,
Juan Atkins,
Smog,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.