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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kevin Saunderson to the grime 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Ronnie Foster,
Scion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harmonia,
Reuben Wilson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Patti Smith,
The Techniques,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unrelated Segments,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Visage,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
OOIOO,
Anthony Braxton,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Danielle Patucci,
Letta Mbulu,
Lungfish,
Crispian St. Peters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Moody Blues,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fall,
The Names,
The Fortunes,
F. McDonald,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Wyatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
Accadde A,
Infiniti,
Todd Rundgren,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kas Product,
The Modern Lovers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Zeros,
Cluster,
Lindisfarne,
Wire,
Delta 5,
Slave,
Susan Cadogan,
Bob Dylan,
Hot Snakes,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.