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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin 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 X-Ray Spex to the electroclash 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Pole,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
E-Dancer,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget,
MC5,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Circle Jerks,
The Trojans,
The Motions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ornette Coleman,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
Suburban Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dead C,
Lindisfarne,
Scan 7,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
Erasure,
Tears for Fears,
Cluster,
Fear,
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
Shuggie Otis,
Harmonia,
Roger Hodgson,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Buckinghams,
The Mummies,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
Michelle Simonal,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.