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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Royal Trux to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Fluxion,
Easy Going,
Cheater Slicks,
Cluster,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques,
Camouflage,
Robert Görl,
Dave Gahan,
Idris Muhammad,
Au Pairs,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
The Fuzztones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Depeche Mode,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed,
John Lydon,
The Gladiators,
Josef K,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heaven 17,
Y Pants,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Carl Craig,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glenn Branca,
Swell Maps,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Reuben Wilson,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
The Buckinghams,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
John Foxx,
Goldenarms,
Bill Wells,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Masters at Work,
Ken Boothe,
Chris & Cosey,
Oblivians,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.