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 Latvia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Barbara Tucker,
Janne Schatter,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
Franke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
Cluster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Move,
PIL,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
Monks,
The Gap Band,
Inner City,
Lower 48,
Goldenarms,
Ohio Players,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers,
Erykah Badu,
Nas,
Wings,
X-Ray Spex,
Blossom Toes,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Audionom,
Dead Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Howard Jones,
Harmonia,
R.M.O.,
Gabor Szabo,
Japan,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Underground Resistance,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
Mandrill,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.