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 East Timor and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Adolescents to the dance 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Pantaleimon,
Skriet,
Smog,
Tim Buckley,
The Gories,
Porter Ricks,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Sun City Girls,
The Seeds,
The Index,
Brick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roger Hodgson,
Anthony Braxton,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
Althea and Donna,
Juan Atkins,
The Kinks,
JFA,
Camouflage,
Jacob Miller,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fat Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sparks,
a-ha,
Mad Mike,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deakin,
Rekid,
Popol Vuh,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
Yusef Lateef,
R.M.O.,
The Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barry Ungar,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.