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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
ABC,
Soul II Soul,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lungfish,
The Saints,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Modern Lovers,
Kurtis Blow,
Organ,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
A Certain Ratio,
Scan 7,
The Index,
Groovy Waters,
Erasure,
The Moody Blues,
The Monochrome Set,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
Cecil Taylor,
The Misunderstood,
Half Japanese,
Fear,
Suburban Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Echospace,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers,
Agent Orange,
Kayak,
Masters at Work,
Flipper,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brick,
Make Up,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slackers,
Fatback Band,
Ice-T,
Junior Murvin,
Underground Resistance,
Morten Harket,
Don Cherry,
The Invisible,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.