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 Dominica and from Tehran.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Tim Buckley to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Faraquet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jerry's Kids,
Moss Icon,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
Tommy Roe,
Crooked Eye,
MC5,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
Whodini,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mr. Review,
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neu!,
Altered Images,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Soul II Soul,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
The Smoke,
The Sonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül II,
Aloha Tigers,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kayak,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy Collins,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Lalann,
Y Pants,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.