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 Tunisia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
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 clarinet 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 Minor Threat to the techno 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Monolake,
Lucky Dragons,
Tomorrow,
Model 500,
Tim Buckley,
The Fugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Durutti Column,
Vladislav Delay,
Warsaw,
Althea and Donna,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roxy Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
Minnie Riperton,
Agitation Free,
The Cowsills,
The Moleskins,
the Human League,
Vainqueur,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC,
Excepter,
The American Breed,
Drexciya,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra,
Ossler,
Sandy B,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quadrant,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Unwound,
Mark Hollis,
One Last Wish,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wally Richardson,
Flash Fearless,
T.S.O.L.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scratch Acid,
David Axelrod,
Grey Daturas,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
The Toasters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.