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 Mauritania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Susan Cadogan to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Circle Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
Prince Buster,
Buzzcocks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
Pantytec,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
CMW,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
Surgeon,
Lindisfarne,
Godley & Creme,
Slave,
Ten City,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Warren Ellis,
Rekid,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Clear Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
The Black Dice,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
The Music Machine,
Crispy Ambulance,
James White and The Blacks,
Leonard Cohen,
Television Personalities,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marine Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sonics,
Fad Gadget,
K-Klass,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
The Fall,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.