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 Barbados and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Albert Ayler to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Flag,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
The Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Peter and Kerry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Sonics,
Rekid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hoover,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
David McCallum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Slave,
PIL,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
A Certain Ratio,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
H. Thieme,
The Gap Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
ABBA,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
New York Dolls,
Whodini,
Robert Görl,
Mission of Burma,
Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glambeats Corp.,
Public Enemy,
Porter Ricks,
Harmonia,
Reuben Wilson,
Nirvana,
Ultra Naté,
Can,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.