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 Afghanistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Basic Channel,
The Count Five,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
New Age Steppers,
Colin Newman,
Deepchord,
Anthony Braxton,
John Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
Janne Schatter,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
Radiohead,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Hill,
Subhumans,
Y Pants,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arcadia,
Symarip,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Red Krayola,
Susan Cadogan,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Sun City Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Eddi Front,
Scion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
CMW,
Faust,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siglo XX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.