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 Portugal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Swell Maps,
Blake Baxter,
AZ,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funky Four + One,
Country Teasers,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
John Lydon,
Nirvana,
Minny Pops,
Gong,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
Letta Mbulu,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
Mandrill,
Don Cherry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Pylon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kaleidoscope,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics,
David McCallum,
Bill Wells,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Ludus,
Dennis Brown,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Suicide,
The Monochrome Set,
Interpol,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythm & Sound,
DNA,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Bar-Kays,
DJ Style,
Lungfish,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cramps,
Terry Callier,
Pagans,
the Slits,
Davy DMX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Vogues,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.