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 Iran and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 a-ha 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Model 500,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Charles Mingus,
Scrapy,
Arthur Verocai,
Flash Fearless,
Peter & Gordon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Morten Harket,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cybotron,
Archie Shepp,
Bush Tetras,
Eli Mardock,
Black Flag,
Bronski Beat,
Public Enemy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Neil Young,
The Velvet Underground,
The Motions,
Alison Limerick,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sound Behaviour,
Kerri Chandler,
Funky Four + One,
Eddi Front,
the Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
Minutemen,
Deadbeat,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
Sixth Finger,
Crime,
Blossom Toes,
Dead Boys,
Oblivians,
Panda Bear,
The Tremeloes,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
E-Dancer,
T. Rex,
David McCallum,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalo Schifrin,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.