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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 The Names to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt,
Organ,
Junior Murvin,
Gang of Four,
The Gun Club,
Arthur Verocai,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Y Pants,
The Blackbyrds,
The Count Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Vladislav Delay,
Terrestrial Tones,
Byron Stingily,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eli Mardock,
The Invisible,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Remains,
kango's stein massive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun City Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Goldenarms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minnie Riperton,
Thee Headcoats,
The Monks,
Derrick May,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eddi Front,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deakin,
Charles Mingus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.