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 Poland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Swans,
Visage,
Arthur Verocai,
Roger Hodgson,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Skatalites,
Graham Central Station,
Scott Walker,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Swans,
Black Sheep,
Barrington Levy,
La Düsseldorf,
Josef K,
The Gladiators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yaz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispian St. Peters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Shoche,
Little Man,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Doors,
Grandmaster Flash,
Clear Light,
Joe Smooth,
Adolescents,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Black Flag,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Leonard Cohen,
Second Layer,
Black Bananas,
Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Make Up,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
The Standells,
Popol Vuh,
Goldenarms,
Royal Trux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scan 7,
Bill Near,
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
Severed Heads,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.