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 Belgium and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Sister Nancy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The New Christs,
U.S. Maple,
Gerry Rafferty,
The American Breed,
Joe Smooth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eurythmics,
The Leaves,
Howard Jones,
Davy DMX,
The Doors,
Prince Buster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Clarke,
Aloha Tigers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fear,
Surgeon,
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
DJ Style,
Alison Limerick,
Slick Rick,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gap Band,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
Funkadelic,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Toasters,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed,
Morten Harket,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sällskapet,
Radio Birdman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
Main Source,
Black Pus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tommy Roe,
Kurtis Blow,
Joey Negro,
Graham Central Station,
Joensuu 1685,
Nik Kershaw,
Loose Ends,
John Cale,
The Real Kids,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.