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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Hashim,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Youth Brigade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Morten Harket,
Country Teasers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aural Exciters,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Public Image Ltd.,
Radiohead,
Byron Stingily,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Marmalade,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scientists,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Yazoo,
Ossler,
Slick Rick,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mantronix,
Arcadia,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
The Barracudas,
Average White Band,
Black Pus,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cluster,
Erasure,
The J.B.'s,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yusef Lateef,
Inner City,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.