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 Hungary and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Fugazi to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet 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?
Monolake,
Don Cherry,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond,
The Residents,
New Order,
Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Golliwogs,
Vladislav Delay,
The Buckinghams,
Yazoo,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Junior Murvin,
The Dead C,
Heaven 17,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wire,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Angels of Light,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barrington Levy,
The Names,
The Motions,
The Selecter,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Absolute Body Control,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Bob Dylan,
The Offenders,
The Zeros,
Duran Duran,
Delta 5,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barbara Tucker,
Supertramp,
The Trojans,
Mars,
Faraquet,
Crime,
Panda Bear,
Cluster,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.