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 Solomon Islands and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Drive Like Jehu to the disco 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
DJ Sneak,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pantaleimon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
Scratch Acid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
The Divine Comedy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gap Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Guru Guru,
Rekid,
Peter and Kerry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Darondo,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
Index,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
The Pretty Things,
Gang of Four,
Half Japanese,
Qualms,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
Judy Mowatt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
Hashim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
JFA,
Godley & Creme,
B.T. Express,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skaos,
Chris Corsano,
Smog,
Jacques Brel,
Eden Ahbez,
Agent Orange,
John Lydon,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.