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 Sweden and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vladislav Delay,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joensuu 1685,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
a-ha,
Bush Tetras,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arthur Verocai,
Yusef Lateef,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Raincoats,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Busters,
Pulsallama,
Lucky Dragons,
Minor Threat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare,
The Real Kids,
Absolute Body Control,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Iggy Pop,
Cameo,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
The Searchers,
10cc,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Supertramp,
CMW,
The Misunderstood,
Stetsasonic,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Junior Murvin,
Brass Construction,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Make Up,
Urselle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.