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 Nepal and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 Throbbing Gristle to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Almond,
Scientists,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
David McCallum,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Skatalites,
Fat Boys,
Franke,
cv313,
Tears for Fears,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deakin,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
Mad Mike,
Pierre Henry,
Desert Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Los Fastidios,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Curtis Mayfield,
PIL,
Hardrive,
Eurythmics,
Derrick May,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Main Source,
Bob Dylan,
Niagra,
The Seeds,
The Offenders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sound,
ABBA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Panda Bear,
Kerri Chandler,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack,
The Stooges,
Don Cherry,
U.S. Maple,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.