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 Uganda and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Ponytail to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Kerri Chandler,
Q and Not U,
The Knickerbockers,
Unrelated Segments,
Flash Fearless,
Country Teasers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yellowson,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Piero Umiliani,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Warren Ellis,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Görl,
Laurel Aitken,
Donald Byrd,
The Fall,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erykah Badu,
One Last Wish,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zero Boys,
Maurizio,
The Durutti Column,
The Busters,
The Mojo Men,
The Happenings,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Henry Cow,
James White and The Blacks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siglo XX,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Babytalk,
The Vogues,
Black Moon,
Black Bananas,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chrome,
DJ Sneak,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.