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 Croatia and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin 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 Peter and Kerry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Grey Daturas,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Todd Rundgren,
Moebius,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Theoretical Girls,
Rekid,
Bush Tetras,
Altered Images,
DJ Style,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eurythmics,
Radiohead,
The Dirtbombs,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
Ponytail,
Bob Dylan,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Stooges,
Fear,
Mad Mike,
Swans,
Essential Logic,
Lindisfarne,
Little Man,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Terry,
Yellowson,
Deadbeat,
Wings,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
Idris Muhammad,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
Moby Grape,
Echospace,
AZ,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Lakeside,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.