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 South Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Schoolly D to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Mummies,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Subhumans,
John Holt,
Letta Mbulu,
Qualms,
Altered Images,
Fad Gadget,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Ken Boothe,
Lower 48,
Hashim,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Nirvana,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
Ultra Naté,
Flipper,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Public Enemy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Ponytail,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
Chris Corsano,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kevin Saunderson,
Average White Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Happenings,
The Gun Club,
David McCallum,
Wolf Eyes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Grass Roots,
The Monochrome Set,
Faust,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.