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 Tanzania and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Radio Birdman to the grunge 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
The Standells,
The Cowsills,
H. Thieme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Babytalk,
China Crisis,
The New Christs,
The Raincoats,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Near,
Severed Heads,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Swell Maps,
the Soft Cell,
Michelle Simonal,
Stereo Dub,
Panda Bear,
Colin Newman,
Underground Resistance,
Rites of Spring,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
JFA,
The Invisible,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers,
Ludus,
X-101,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crash Course in Science,
Flipper,
Minny Pops,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
T. Rex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Siglo XX,
Judy Mowatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Aural Exciters,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
Icehouse,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
Index,
Outsiders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.