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 Guyana and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Toasters to the electroclash 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Morten Harket,
Chris & Cosey,
Sound Behaviour,
Suicide,
Kaleidoscope,
Crash Course in Science,
Delon & Dalcan,
Royal Trux,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
MDC,
Fatback Band,
Babytalk,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
MC5,
Rekid,
Jandek,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Adolescents,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Television,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Camouflage,
Nik Kershaw,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Harmonia,
Soul II Soul,
Lungfish,
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Blancmange,
The Gories,
Main Source,
Marvin Gaye,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
Agitation Free,
Funkadelic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.