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 Antigua and from Toronto.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
The Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
The Associates,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
Oblivians,
Dennis Brown,
The Barracudas,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
Archie Shepp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The J.B.'s,
Country Teasers,
Drexciya,
The Motions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
The Smiths,
The Fire Engines,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rod Modell,
The Sonics,
Cybotron,
Royal Trux,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Half Japanese,
Echospace,
Letta Mbulu,
In Retrospect,
The Knickerbockers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Modern Lovers,
Visage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
The Blackbyrds,
Negative Approach,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.