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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 Glenn Branca to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
The Music Machine,
Monks,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
Marvin Gaye,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Evens,
EPMD,
The Gun Club,
Junior Murvin,
Unwound,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Harry Pussy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Depeche Mode,
Dark Day,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantaleimon,
Kayak,
Japan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maleditus Sound,
The Toasters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Tim Buckley,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
Amazonics,
In Retrospect,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Buzzcocks,
Sister Nancy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
8 Eyed Spy,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
The Divine Comedy,
Lakeside,
Public Enemy,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.