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 Equatorial Guinea and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Gladiators to the grunge 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Womack,
The Divine Comedy,
Patti Smith,
John Foxx,
Yaz,
Sixth Finger,
The Black Dice,
Pulsallama,
Barrington Levy,
Lower 48,
The Doors,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Model 500,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skriet,
Susan Cadogan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Joe Finger,
Agitation Free,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
Eurythmics,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Cale,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
The Residents,
Make Up,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
The Gap Band,
The United States of America,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-102,
Ice-T,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dark Day,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.