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 Tonga 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Black Dice to the electroclash 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Youth Brigade,
Stiv Bators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
The Zeros,
Wasted Youth,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
Ice-T,
Los Fastidios,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Sister Nancy,
Sonic Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Simply Red,
L. Decosne,
UT,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
Essential Logic,
Todd Terry,
The Wake,
Maurizio,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Görl,
Susan Cadogan,
Siglo XX,
The Fall,
Television,
Swans,
The Dead C,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Section 25,
The J.B.'s,
Ludus,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Urselle,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.