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 Norway and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Jacques Brel to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Pere Ubu,
The Kinks,
Ituana,
The Fugs,
Scratch Acid,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cameo,
Au Pairs,
Danielle Patucci,
Hoover,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lyres,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ice-T,
June of 44,
Pantytec,
Neu!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Minny Pops,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
Lungfish,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Television,
Black Bananas,
The Modern Lovers,
Saccharine Trust,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Graham Central Station,
Bob Dylan,
The Slackers,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
Sugar Minott,
The Walker Brothers,
This Heat,
Sister Nancy,
Basic Channel,
Fat Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.