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 Bhutan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Motorama to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Black Bananas,
The Angels of Light,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Max Romeo,
Parry Music,
Motorama,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Donald Byrd,
Roxette,
The Associates,
Guru Guru,
Scott Walker,
Television,
Ronan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Liliput,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
Depeche Mode,
John Foxx,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aural Exciters,
Underground Resistance,
Ossler,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
John Cale,
The Offenders,
Metal Thangz,
T. Rex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Babytalk,
Cybotron,
F. McDonald,
The Buckinghams,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop,
Piero Umiliani,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
The Evens,
World's Most,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sugar Minott,
Hasil Adkins,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.