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 Macedonia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Nils Olav to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marmalade,
Ossler,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Dolphy,
Junior Murvin,
Bob Dylan,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
Nas,
Alice Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deepchord,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
The Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Wally Richardson,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
New Age Steppers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fad Gadget,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Roger Hodgson,
Donald Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tim Buckley,
Los Fastidios,
Nils Olav,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Bananas,
Model 500,
Erykah Badu,
Dennis Brown,
AZ,
Magazine,
The Victims,
Ituana,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Juan Atkins,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.