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 Peru and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The New Christs to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Unwound,
Pussy Galore,
Wally Richardson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Cameo,
Bang On A Can,
ABC,
Hashim,
Symarip,
Skaos,
Barry Ungar,
Quadrant,
David Axelrod,
Quando Quango,
Alison Limerick,
Black Flag,
Jeff Lynne,
Cluster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mars,
The Index,
The Moody Blues,
Angry Samoans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Hood,
Quantec,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Cybotron,
Nik Kershaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
Zero Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
The Alarm Clocks,
Newcleus,
Gichy Dan,
Moebius,
The Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.