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 Italy 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Joe Finger to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis,
Stereo Dub,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ossler,
Josef K,
Moby Grape,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
T.S.O.L.,
Visage,
Cal Tjader,
the Normal,
Absolute Body Control,
Neu!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Hood,
The Searchers,
Joyce Sims,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Hoover,
China Crisis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Interpol,
The Litter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Black Bananas,
Black Moon,
The Vogues,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
FM Einheit,
Crooked Eye,
Wire,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alice Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.