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 Norway and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lightning Bolt to the rap 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vladislav Delay,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Lynne,
AZ,
Guru Guru,
Aloha Tigers,
Sex Pistols,
cv313,
Scan 7,
Roy Ayers,
James White and The Blacks,
The Misunderstood,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Bizarre Inc.,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flipper,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Y Pants,
These Immortal Souls,
Japan,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
Angry Samoans,
Desert Stars,
The Saints,
Dawn Penn,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
Camberwell Now,
LL Cool J,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.