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 Botswana and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Swell Maps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Second Layer,
the Slits,
Ultra Naté,
Qualms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rites of Spring,
Quantec,
Cybotron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Magazine,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
The Black Dice,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms,
Bush Tetras,
Rufus Thomas,
Livin' Joy,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
Dawn Penn,
The Misunderstood,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blake Baxter,
Babytalk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Bowie,
Reuben Wilson,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Halsall,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Grass Roots,
Icehouse,
The Invisible,
Faust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Essential Logic,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.