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 Rwanda and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Selecter to the electroclash 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Monks,
Sarah Menescal,
Television Personalities,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Boredoms,
Rosa Yemen,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare,
Excepter,
Quando Quango,
D'Angelo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerri Chandler,
Sister Nancy,
Simply Red,
Monolake,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Sonics,
Dark Day,
The Gladiators,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
the Normal,
The Saints,
E-Dancer,
Al Stewart,
Brand Nubian,
The Busters,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
The Techniques,
The Gap Band,
Blake Baxter,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
Tres Demented,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Amazonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Max Romeo,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cramps,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Wire,
Dead Boys,
Eddi Front,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.