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 Qatar and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cowsills to the jazz 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
ABC,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dave Gahan,
The Black Dice,
The Star Department,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Saints,
X-101,
Minutemen,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Intrusion,
Hashim,
Bobby Byrd,
The Associates,
Ludus,
Kayak,
The Human League,
The Monochrome Set,
a-ha,
Niagra,
The Fuzztones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Vladislav Delay,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Anakelly,
The Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pet Shop Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Aloha Tigers,
Circle Jerks,
The Shadows of Knight,
MC5,
Livin' Joy,
T. Rex,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Green,
Lightning Bolt,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slackers,
Godley & Creme,
Cameo,
Darondo,
Fela Kuti,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.