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 Colombia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Don Cherry to the grime 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
T.S.O.L.,
Interpol,
The Names,
Index,
The Busters,
Stetsasonic,
New Order,
Soul Sonic Force,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
In Retrospect,
Jacques Brel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pulsallama,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake,
The Misunderstood,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marine Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Henry Cow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wings,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Negative Approach,
Ornette Coleman,
The Evens,
Franke,
the Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Barbara Tucker,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Wells,
Chrome,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Clear Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scan 7,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
The Martian,
Ponytail,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.