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 Switzerland and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Glenn Branca to the funk 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Real Kids,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
Juan Atkins,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
48th St. Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Reagan Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Essential Logic,
Moss Icon,
Ornette Coleman,
Malaria!,
Theoretical Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultravox,
Leonard Cohen,
The J.B.'s,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
Charles Mingus,
Brass Construction,
John Holt,
China Crisis,
Fatback Band,
Black Moon,
Fela Kuti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Surgeon,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
DNA,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.