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 Equatorial Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Royal Trux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
The Durutti Column,
Main Source,
CMW,
Pylon,
Rekid,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shoche,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liliput,
Marcia Griffiths,
Index,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Stooges,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Roxy Music,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
The Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Agent Orange,
Visage,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kas Product,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
the Slits,
Joe Finger,
Echospace,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tim Buckley,
Pantaleimon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans,
Trumans Water,
Kayak,
Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
MDC,
The Litter,
Bobby Sherman,
Steve Hackett,
John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Roger Hodgson,
The Young Rascals,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.