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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar 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 Gang of Four to the crunk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Fear,
Moby Grape,
Scion,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skarface,
Kayak,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flash Fearless,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade,
Gichy Dan,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joyce Sims,
Audionom,
Wally Richardson,
Porter Ricks,
Peter and Kerry,
Junior Murvin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Index,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed,
The Mummies,
Slave,
Derrick May,
K-Klass,
Theoretical Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Warren Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stereo Dub,
Lee Hazlewood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric Dolphy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Albert Ayler,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.