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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Soul II Soul to the electroclash 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Marine Girls,
Guru Guru,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd,
ABC,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Techniques,
Circle Jerks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Nils Olav,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter & Gordon,
Nation of Ulysses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drexciya,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Slackers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June of 44,
Nico,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scan 7,
Morten Harket,
Neil Young,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masters at Work,
Suicide,
The Fire Engines,
The Wake,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skriet,
Q65,
Vainqueur,
Oneida,
Aaron Thompson,
Bush Tetras,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
the Sonics,
EPMD,
Crooked Eye,
The Associates,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
Altered Images,
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Slick Rick,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
The Residents,
Maleditus Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.