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 Micronesia and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
U.S. Maple,
Jacob Miller,
Silicon Teens,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeru the Damaja,
Faust,
The Blues Magoos,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Graham Central Station,
Throbbing Gristle,
Young Marble Giants,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
kango's stein massive,
David Bowie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxette,
The Monks,
The Associates,
Kerri Chandler,
Sonic Youth,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
MC5,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Almond,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
New Age Steppers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Rites of Spring,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
Rosa Yemen,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Style,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Divine Comedy,
the Association,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Das Ding,
Pulsallama,
Jawbox,
Dawn Penn,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sight & Sound,
Deakin,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.