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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 T.S.O.L. 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Gun Club,
U.S. Maple,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
Neu!,
Pantytec,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
The Beau Brummels,
Deakin,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Skatalites,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gichy Dan,
Mr. Review,
Main Source,
Sound Behaviour,
Boogie Down Productions,
World's Most,
Alice Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Fraelich,
Grey Daturas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Bluetip,
The Knickerbockers,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
Minnie Riperton,
The Saints,
Maleditus Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Young Rascals,
Clear Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
New York Dolls,
Slick Rick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.