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 Mongolia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Harmonia,
The Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roger Hodgson,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Main Source,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
Heaven 17,
June Days,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Man Parrish,
Japan,
the Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Byron Stingily,
The Trojans,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
Negative Approach,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Livin' Joy,
Maurizio,
Wasted Youth,
Ronnie Foster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mantronix,
The Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
U.S. Maple,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
The Smiths,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
the Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
The Skatalites,
Sonic Youth,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.