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 China and from Beijing.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Newcleus to the electroclash 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Ronan,
The American Breed,
Gong,
The Birthday Party,
Wally Richardson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
Intrusion,
The Motions,
Lucky Dragons,
Make Up,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
Saccharine Trust,
Sällskapet,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lalann,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Wasted Youth,
Sister Nancy,
The Dead C,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
Dawn Penn,
Cluster,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
CMW,
Ossler,
The Move,
Marvin Gaye,
Crash Course in Science,
Dark Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Babytalk,
New Order,
Godley & Creme,
Sam Rivers,
Hasil Adkins,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Tremeloes,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.