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 South Africa and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Unwound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wally Richardson,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Holt,
Barbara Tucker,
The Young Rascals,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
Porter Ricks,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
June of 44,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
Yusef Lateef,
a-ha,
UT,
Rosa Yemen,
Hashim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Das Ding,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Tomorrow,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blackbyrds,
T.S.O.L.,
One Last Wish,
Animal Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yazoo,
Tom Boy,
Echospace,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
Kaleidoscope,
Nirvana,
Young Marble Giants,
the Normal,
Niagra,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.