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 Tajikistan and from Calgary.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Arcadia to the grime 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
The Motions,
The Walker Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Jandek,
Sparks,
Cal Tjader,
The Residents,
Saccharine Trust,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dave Gahan,
Jawbox,
Lakeside,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
Bad Manners,
Animal Collective,
Deakin,
B.T. Express,
Motorama,
David McCallum,
Ice-T,
UT,
Pantytec,
Minutemen,
Theoretical Girls,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
48th St. Collective,
Unwound,
Roger Hodgson,
Nirvana,
Oblivians,
Magazine,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül,
Susan Cadogan,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
Funky Four + One,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sam Rivers,
Ultravox,
The Beau Brummels,
Malaria!,
Pulsallama,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.