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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Minny Pops,
The Buckinghams,
Rakim,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chrome,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Supertramp,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Fat Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Schoolly D,
Faust,
Technova,
Cymande,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Masters at Work,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Goldenarms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tommy Roe,
Kurtis Blow,
Amon Düül,
Shuggie Otis,
Con Funk Shun,
Oneida,
Echospace,
Stereo Dub,
Heaven 17,
Charles Mingus,
A Certain Ratio,
kango's stein massive,
Isaac Hayes,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Sonics,
Magma,
Fela Kuti,
The Doors,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Dawn Penn,
Mark Hollis,
Sister Nancy,
UT,
Spoonie Gee,
Frankie Knuckles,
Piero Umiliani,
Index,
Dark Day,
Guru Guru,
Bad Manners,
Letta Mbulu,
Toni Rubio,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.