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 Mauritius and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Absolute Body Control to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
Byron Stingily,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
The Stooges,
Susan Cadogan,
The Raincoats,
Davy DMX,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fugs,
Hardrive,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Trojans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blues Magoos,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Das Ding,
Brick,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Popol Vuh,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Green,
Alton Ellis,
Rhythm & Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
Loose Ends,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Reed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Nas,
Black Moon,
Lower 48,
Half Japanese,
Minny Pops,
The Doors,
Sällskapet,
The Cramps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
Lungfish,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
Dead Boys,
Masters at Work,
Chris Corsano,
The Human League,
Deadbeat,
Ossler,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.