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 Comoros and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Essential Logic to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Mars,
Monolake,
Mandrill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Cybotron,
Erasure,
OOIOO,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans,
Freddie Wadling,
The Offenders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blossom Toes,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
The Residents,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alphaville,
Audionom,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Raincoats,
Dead Boys,
Television Personalities,
Fluxion,
Kaleidoscope,
Nick Fraelich,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Wyatt,
John Foxx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magazine,
Faust,
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pop Group,
Thee Headcoats,
The Barracudas,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
The Stooges,
One Last Wish,
Eric Dolphy,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.