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 Germany and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer 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 rap 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
The Remains,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Smooth,
Altered Images,
Guru Guru,
The Offenders,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Stooges,
X-Ray Spex,
Zero Boys,
Sparks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eddi Front,
Ituana,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Wyatt,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marcia Griffiths,
Underground Resistance,
Eurythmics,
Mantronix,
Marvin Gaye,
Quando Quango,
Excepter,
Gang of Four,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
June of 44,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Urselle,
Duran Duran,
Skaos,
Rotary Connection,
Scott Walker,
Alice Coltrane,
David Bowie,
Los Fastidios,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
Gong,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aswad,
Peter & Gordon,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.