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 Bolivia and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Walker Brothers to the crunk 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Circle Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gichy Dan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
Ultra Naté,
The Barracudas,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
Gang of Four,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cure,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ossler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sex Pistols,
Monks,
The Raincoats,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Count Five,
Eddi Front,
The Invisible,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Sun Ra,
Metal Thangz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
T. Rex,
The Young Rascals,
Eric Dolphy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unrelated Segments,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Schoolly D,
Royal Trux,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dark Day,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gun Club,
The Misunderstood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
Smog,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Interpol,
OOIOO,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fortunes,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.