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 Korea North and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Donald Fagen 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 Alphaville to the rap 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Gladiators,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
a-ha,
Ludus,
The Tremeloes,
Flash Fearless,
Aswad,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Oneida,
Judy Mowatt,
Ice-T,
The Last Poets,
Eve St. Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Althea and Donna,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camberwell Now,
Reagan Youth,
Can,
Ponytail,
Radiopuhelimet,
Max Romeo,
Mantronix,
Royal Trux,
Ronnie Foster,
Amazonics,
Bronski Beat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cheater Slicks,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
Bob Dylan,
X-101,
Bauhaus,
FM Einheit,
Alton Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Interpol,
The Fall,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Dead C,
Unwound,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Sällskapet,
A Certain Ratio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crime,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.