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 Romania and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bad Manners to the rock 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Lou Christie,
The Angels of Light,
Bob Dylan,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Quando Quango,
The Mighty Diamonds,
CMW,
Make Up,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brass Construction,
The Motions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Suburban Knight,
The Residents,
Anakelly,
Smog,
Dennis Brown,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Goldenarms,
Amazonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Con Funk Shun,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Organ,
The Vogues,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blackbyrds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slick Rick,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice,
Laurel Aitken,
Grey Daturas,
The Monochrome Set,
E-Dancer,
Freddie Wadling,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
MDC,
Easy Going,
Cluster,
Shuggie Otis,
John Holt,
Donald Byrd,
The Stooges,
The Doors,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.