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 Bolivia and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 Dead Boys to the techno 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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a clarinet 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 guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Skatalites,
Mars,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
Suicide,
The Fall,
CMW,
Swans,
F. McDonald,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
Oneida,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Selecter,
The Music Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cluster,
Anakelly,
Scientists,
Cymande,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lindisfarne,
Shoche,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Trumans Water,
DJ Style,
Danielle Patucci,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Letta Mbulu,
Brass Construction,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul II Soul,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
The Martian,
Iggy Pop,
Simply Red,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Connie Case,
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Loose Ends,
Mandrill,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Thompson Twins,
Johnny Clarke,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.