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 Kenya and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Joe Finger,
Gang of Four,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-102,
Rekid,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
Crime,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Desert Stars,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare,
Metal Thangz,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
The Music Machine,
Cymande,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Deadbeat,
Gichy Dan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fortunes,
DNA,
The Victims,
Darondo,
June Days,
Ultimate Spinach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yusef Lateef,
Procol Harum,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Duran Duran,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yazoo,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Germs,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.