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 Gabon and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sam Rivers to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
Hardrive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ohio Players,
the Bar-Kays,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
In Retrospect,
kango's stein massive,
Roxy Music,
Outsiders,
Rites of Spring,
Young Marble Giants,
Fat Boys,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
T.S.O.L.,
Deepchord,
Yusef Lateef,
Scratch Acid,
Jawbox,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
Massinfluence,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Silicon Teens,
Infiniti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Remains,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
This Heat,
DJ Style,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Kerri Chandler,
Rod Modell,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
Mandrill,
The Buckinghams,
David McCallum,
These Immortal Souls,
The Golliwogs,
Quadrant,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.