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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
the Human League,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Alice Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hot Snakes,
Mandrill,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siglo XX,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Move,
The Mummies,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Selecter,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
Yazoo,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Parry Music,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Kayak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vladislav Delay,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slackers,
Fear,
Urselle,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
The Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Görl,
Neil Young,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacob Miller,
X-Ray Spex,
World's Most,
Letta Mbulu,
June of 44,
Q and Not U,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.