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 Sudan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 B.T. Express to the disco 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
This Heat,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Laurel Aitken,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Moleskins,
PIL,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skarface,
Urselle,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Enemy,
Unwound,
The Velvet Underground,
Magazine,
Fat Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zapp,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
Moby Grape,
Spoonie Gee,
Nirvana,
48th St. Collective,
Inner City,
Chrome,
Moebius,
Subhumans,
Cluster,
Brick,
OOIOO,
The Raincoats,
Livin' Joy,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Guru Guru,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Trojans,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-102,
Jeff Mills,
Joy Division,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Hood,
The Count Five,
Swell Maps,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter and Kerry,
the Sonics,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.