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 Angola and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Alice Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Malaria!,
The American Breed,
Ultravox,
Wire,
Cluster,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Can,
The Techniques,
Grauzone,
The New Christs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Godley & Creme,
Pantytec,
Zero Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Franke,
X-102,
Zapp,
Pulsallama,
Bill Near,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roxette,
The Smoke,
The Cure,
Boz Scaggs,
Lucky Dragons,
Ronnie Foster,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABC,
Joyce Sims,
China Crisis,
Nick Fraelich,
Bronski Beat,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
Mandrill,
Todd Rundgren,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Suicide,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.