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 Guinea and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Gichy Dan to the rock 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
The Count Five,
Alphaville,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nirvana,
Bad Manners,
Minor Threat,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Trojans,
Delta 5,
The Divine Comedy,
DNA,
Procol Harum,
Cheater Slicks,
MDC,
The Black Dice,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
KRS-One,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marine Girls,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
Mr. Review,
Massinfluence,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blancmange,
Drexciya,
Rekid,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Christie,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Roxette,
Oneida,
Iggy Pop,
Marvin Gaye,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cure,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mo-Dettes,
Tears for Fears,
The Real Kids,
a-ha,
Gang Green,
Lucky Dragons,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.