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 Mongolia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Leonard Cohen to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
KRS-One,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Pole,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Todd Rundgren,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Gong,
The Trojans,
Reuben Wilson,
The Monochrome Set,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABBA,
Oneida,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Womack,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerri Chandler,
Mandrill,
Echospace,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Nas,
Loose Ends,
Rotary Connection,
Fela Kuti,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
T. Rex,
Lalo Schifrin,
X-101,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.