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 New Zealand and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Roxy Music,
Faust,
Deakin,
Scientists,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flash Fearless,
The Modern Lovers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Outsiders,
Black Moon,
48th St. Collective,
Country Teasers,
Aural Exciters,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
Barrington Levy,
Black Bananas,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Style,
Quantec,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blake Baxter,
Reuben Wilson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shuggie Otis,
The Tremeloes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Das Ding,
Michelle Simonal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Rosa Yemen,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker,
Brand Nubian,
AZ,
The Star Department,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.