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 Peru and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Robert Palmer 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 Sonic Youth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas 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?
The Blues Magoos,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cure,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
10cc,
EPMD,
Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Fat Boys,
In Retrospect,
Jacques Brel,
Scan 7,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Matthew Halsall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Judy Mowatt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Zero Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Outsiders,
Animal Collective,
Alphaville,
Camberwell Now,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
Slave,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Dawn Penn,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fear,
Gang of Four,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.