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 Uganda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 John Foxx to the techno 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Lower 48,
Malaria!,
Bad Manners,
Spoonie Gee,
Intrusion,
Nirvana,
The Monochrome Set,
Ponytail,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Searchers,
Cameo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Wyatt,
Maurizio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wire,
The Velvet Underground,
Cecil Taylor,
Young Marble Giants,
UT,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Second Layer,
Magma,
Skriet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
Swell Maps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ten City,
T. Rex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Public Enemy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mantronix,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Finger,
The Sonics,
Ultravox,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faraquet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Silicon Teens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Michelle Simonal,
Schoolly D,
The Techniques,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
New Order,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.