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 Finland and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minor Threat to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lakeside,
Drexciya,
Echospace,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Silicon Teens,
Model 500,
Circle Jerks,
Malaria!,
Mandrill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crooked Eye,
Au Pairs,
Ronan,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
Trumans Water,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crime,
Average White Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
The Cowsills,
Spoonie Gee,
Schoolly D,
Arab on Radar,
Joyce Sims,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flamin' Groovies,
Los Fastidios,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mo-Dettes,
Das Ding,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Albert Ayler,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABC,
The Trojans,
David McCallum,
Scientists,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
Angry Samoans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Associates,
Ituana,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lindisfarne,
Charles Mingus,
Susan Cadogan,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.