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 Hungary and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms,
Soulsonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
CMW,
Gabor Szabo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Pus,
Matthew Bourne,
John Holt,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
The American Breed,
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Unwound,
Popol Vuh,
OOIOO,
Bad Manners,
Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Malaria!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oneida,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
Fugazi,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
The Mojo Men,
Wings,
June of 44,
Radiohead,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
Stereo Dub,
The Cowsills,
Porter Ricks,
Sister Nancy,
Outsiders,
Howard Jones,
Panda Bear,
John Coltrane,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.