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 Belarus and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
The New Christs,
Circle Jerks,
Q65,
MC5,
Soft Machine,
Blancmange,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
Jandek,
World's Most,
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
The Trojans,
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
Black Sheep,
Kaleidoscope,
H. Thieme,
The Gap Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Enemy,
The Searchers,
Groovy Waters,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
K-Klass,
The Black Dice,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bang On A Can,
Fugazi,
Godley & Creme,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Sonics,
Thompson Twins,
Duran Duran,
Khruangbin,
The Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Altered Images,
Eden Ahbez,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.