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 Albania and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Oblivians to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Byron Stingily,
Chris Corsano,
Guru Guru,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Velvet Underground,
Surgeon,
Bill Near,
Supertramp,
Desert Stars,
The Fall,
Black Bananas,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
Monolake,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
The Standells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barbara Tucker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ohio Players,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
D'Angelo,
Maleditus Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
48th St. Collective,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cure,
Blancmange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Agent Orange,
Blake Baxter,
Marmalade,
Sugar Minott,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Graham Central Station,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ken Boothe,
Idris Muhammad,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
The Knickerbockers,
Unwound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The New Christs,
The Fuzztones,
The Kinks,
Siglo XX,
Groovy Waters,
The Remains,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABBA,
Bang On A Can,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.