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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Suicide to the grunge 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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Severed Heads,
Royal Trux,
Drexciya,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
Simply Red,
Crime,
Iggy Pop,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
Hoover,
Cymande,
Babytalk,
Jandek,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
Niagra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fela Kuti,
Janne Schatter,
Barrington Levy,
The Cure,
AZ,
Pole,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
Sister Nancy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Velvet Underground,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang of Four,
Parry Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
the Sonics,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.