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 Australia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 AZ to the grime 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marmalade,
Interpol,
Sight & Sound,
Ohio Players,
Derrick May,
Anthony Braxton,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Motions,
The Doors,
The United States of America,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-101,
Heaven 17,
Todd Rundgren,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rekid,
D'Angelo,
Public Enemy,
Stereo Dub,
Scratch Acid,
Scrapy,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
The Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
Tommy Roe,
Crash Course in Science,
Shuggie Otis,
Vainqueur,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eve St. Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Groovy Waters,
Althea and Donna,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric Dolphy,
Section 25,
Rosa Yemen,
The New Christs,
The Dead C,
Faraquet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suicide,
Drexciya,
Fugazi,
World's Most,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.