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 Grenada and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Deepchord to the crunk 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Pole,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Visage,
Marmalade,
The Saints,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pylon,
June of 44,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mummies,
Kayak,
The Wake,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Lynne,
Barbara Tucker,
David Axelrod,
Maurizio,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Subhumans,
The Zeros,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
Henry Cow,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Jacob Miller,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Skriet,
Groovy Waters,
Rites of Spring,
John Coltrane,
David Bowie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Associates,
Hashim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed,
Lindisfarne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantaleimon,
Skarface,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.