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 Libya and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 John Foxx to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
World's Most,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Smooth,
Charles Mingus,
Technova,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
H. Thieme,
The American Breed,
Ultimate Spinach,
Procol Harum,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Stooges,
Trumans Water,
Ten City,
Sun Ra,
Lakeside,
Pagans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
David Bowie,
Pole,
The Associates,
Lindisfarne,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soul II Soul,
Lyres,
John Coltrane,
The Leaves,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jandek,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Judy Mowatt,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
Alison Limerick,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cameo,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.