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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brick to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
D'Angelo,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
The Slackers,
Nils Olav,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Amazonics,
Chris Corsano,
Alphaville,
Vainqueur,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Saints,
Angry Samoans,
Skaos,
Ronan,
Skarface,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crash Course in Science,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Hasil Adkins,
Eve St. Jones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cheater Slicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fluxion,
Dead Boys,
Khruangbin,
Aaron Thompson,
Alison Limerick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Christie,
Arab on Radar,
Lyres,
Gong,
Graham Central Station,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter and Kerry,
The Human League,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Audionom,
Amon Düül II,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
E-Dancer,
Blake Baxter,
Accadde A,
The Count Five,
Sam Rivers,
The Blues Magoos,
PIL,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
The Techniques,
Minutemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Don Cherry,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.