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 Lithuania 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Ituana to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unrelated Segments,
Josef K,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
Erykah Badu,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
L. Decosne,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Shoche,
Rod Modell,
Hardrive,
Blake Baxter,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
Susan Cadogan,
Motorama,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
the Association,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
LL Cool J,
Cheater Slicks,
Interpol,
B.T. Express,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
Camberwell Now,
The Standells,
the Normal,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Pole,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.