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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 The Victims to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Slits,
Ronan,
Cheater Slicks,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Moon,
Theoretical Girls,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter & Gordon,
The Techniques,
Yazoo,
Yaz,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
K-Klass,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sarah Menescal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Main Source,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
The Red Krayola,
Flipper,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
David McCallum,
The Modern Lovers,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harry Pussy,
Bad Manners,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Archie Shepp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Leaves,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Todd Terry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Hardrive,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.