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 Italy and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Bananas to the punk 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Joe Finger,
In Retrospect,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Vainqueur,
Intrusion,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
Scratch Acid,
The Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Little Man,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eddi Front,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boredoms,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thee Headcoats,
Audionom,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Bush Tetras,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sugar Minott,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Masters at Work,
Lungfish,
Crooked Eye,
The Index,
Sandy B,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rod Modell,
Maurizio,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Monks,
Fat Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Smog,
The Buckinghams,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brick,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.