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 Nicaragua and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gil Scott Heron to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Juan Atkins,
D'Angelo,
Jandek,
Dead Boys,
Quantec,
Joy Division,
Agent Orange,
Sex Pistols,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Japan,
R.M.O.,
Vainqueur,
Wings,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
The Pop Group,
Yellowson,
Neil Young,
The Tremeloes,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Busters,
The Walker Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
Barry Ungar,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Index,
Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris Corsano,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Dolphy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Organ,
The Fortunes,
Spoonie Gee,
the Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.