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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Copeland to the punk 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Talk Talk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
John Foxx,
Oblivians,
Wally Richardson,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
Schoolly D,
X-102,
The Modern Lovers,
Pierre Henry,
Skriet,
The Dirtbombs,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Durutti Column,
The Dead C,
Hardrive,
Ronan,
Radio Birdman,
Nils Olav,
Robert Wyatt,
Youth Brigade,
Accadde A,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
the Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Monks,
The Monks,
T.S.O.L.,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agitation Free,
Lower 48,
Visage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roxy Music,
Audionom,
Pole,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lalann,
Tropical Tobacco,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Smoke,
Erykah Badu,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.