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 Finland and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jesper Dahlback to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cal Tjader,
Stetsasonic,
Morten Harket,
Tommy Roe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Byron Stingily,
Ultravox,
Trumans Water,
Jacob Miller,
Barry Ungar,
Sight & Sound,
Von Mondo,
Pantaleimon,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Urselle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jerry's Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
Eric Dolphy,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
The Fugs,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
New York Dolls,
Wings,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
Marvin Gaye,
Organ,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gun Club,
The Techniques,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Birthday Party,
8 Eyed Spy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Underground Resistance,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.