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 Tonga and from Halifax.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Kerri Chandler to the funk 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Das Ding,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Grass Roots,
Kas Product,
Robert Görl,
Don Cherry,
Inner City,
Malaria!,
Minor Threat,
Ituana,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
Judy Mowatt,
Masters at Work,
Tommy Roe,
Ludus,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arcadia,
The Move,
James White and The Blacks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Groovy Waters,
The Wake,
Visage,
Steve Hackett,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Pretty Things,
The Neon Judgement,
Bill Wells,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Saccharine Trust,
Sällskapet,
Minny Pops,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Fad Gadget,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Mandrill,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Scrapy,
Nils Olav,
Fear,
Lungfish,
T.S.O.L.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.