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 Montenegro and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Urselle to the electroclash 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Sun Ra,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
Sugar Minott,
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
Scion,
Hasil Adkins,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marine Girls,
John Lydon,
Colin Newman,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Sherman,
Deadbeat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare,
Fad Gadget,
Nils Olav,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
Lower 48,
Adolescents,
The Invisible,
A Certain Ratio,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
the Swans,
Grauzone,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
Magma,
Symarip,
EPMD,
Scrapy,
Brass Construction,
Faust,
Lou Reed,
Surgeon,
The Moleskins,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quando Quango,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blake Baxter,
Mars,
The Associates,
Max Romeo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Godley & Creme,
Groovy Waters,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.