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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the punk 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Crash Course in Science,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra,
a-ha,
Henry Cow,
Reagan Youth,
Chris Corsano,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
Trumans Water,
Kerrie Biddell,
Public Enemy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
The Golliwogs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pylon,
The Misunderstood,
Simply Red,
The Fire Engines,
EPMD,
Absolute Body Control,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
Royal Trux,
Cymande,
X-102,
Moby Grape,
Babytalk,
Fat Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Joy Division,
Barclay James Harvest,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Model 500,
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
X-101,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rekid,
The J.B.'s,
Basic Channel,
Interpol,
The Skatalites,
Loose Ends,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Main Source,
Symarip,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.