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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Public Image Ltd. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Archie Shepp,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
Sparks,
Morten Harket,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
Ice-T,
Leonard Cohen,
China Crisis,
Jeff Mills,
Dennis Brown,
Essential Logic,
Erasure,
Wolf Eyes,
ABBA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oneida,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Victims,
This Heat,
X-Ray Spex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Max Romeo,
The Names,
U.S. Maple,
Gregory Isaacs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joy Division,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soulsonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
Moss Icon,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.