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 Saudi Arabia and from Johannesburg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 The Slackers 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Con Funk Shun,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ohio Players,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skaos,
The Tremeloes,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Wake,
ABC,
Vainqueur,
Deepchord,
Quadrant,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television,
Swans,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Technova,
The Music Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Sight & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wally Richardson,
Janne Schatter,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jandek,
Q and Not U,
Soft Cell,
Underground Resistance,
The Neon Judgement,
Theoretical Girls,
FM Einheit,
Blancmange,
Lower 48,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Colin Newman,
Skarface,
Suburban Knight,
Pet Shop Boys,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.