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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Angels of Light to the rock 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Mars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Ice-T,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sex Pistols,
World's Most,
MDC,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Rapeman,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Eden Ahbez,
Barbara Tucker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Michelle Simonal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The United States of America,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wire,
The Martian,
Lower 48,
Easy Going,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
The Real Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dead C,
The Detroit Cobras,
EPMD,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Sixth Finger,
Hardrive,
The Monochrome Set,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blues Magoos,
T.S.O.L.,
Subhumans,
Aswad,
Cymande,
Sunsets and Hearts,
B.T. Express,
Eddi Front,
Sun City Girls,
Depeche Mode,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
Kool Moe Dee,
Essential Logic,
The Last Poets,
Can,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.