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 Gambia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Joyce Sims to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Neu!,
Josef K,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
Joey Negro,
Arab on Radar,
Aswad,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
The New Christs,
the Sonics,
Skaos,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MDC,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Curtis Mayfield,
Parry Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
Unrelated Segments,
Desert Stars,
UT,
Steve Hackett,
the Association,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
These Immortal Souls,
Darondo,
Quadrant,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Residents,
Delta 5,
Juan Atkins,
the Germs,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.