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 Kuwait and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moleskins to the dance 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Easy Going,
T.S.O.L.,
Aaron Thompson,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
Archie Shepp,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru,
Mark Hollis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacob Miller,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Evens,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
Toni Rubio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Prince Buster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gong,
X-101,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Skarface,
Ultra Naté,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sister Nancy,
Heaven 17,
Deadbeat,
Minnie Riperton,
Simply Red,
Cybotron,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
Nils Olav,
Surgeon,
Isaac Hayes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.