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 United States and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Divine Comedy to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
The Techniques,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radio Birdman,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slick Rick,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faust,
Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Wally Richardson,
Aloha Tigers,
The Black Dice,
The Smoke,
Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fugs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pylon,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Sexual Harrassment,
48th St. Collective,
Public Enemy,
Outsiders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Whodini,
Skaos,
The Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Theoretical Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
Godley & Creme,
Nas,
The Knickerbockers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
In Retrospect,
Soft Cell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Derrick Morgan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Connie Case,
The Dead C,
Warren Ellis,
The Wake,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.