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 Nauru and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Count Five to the dance 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
T. Rex,
Yusef Lateef,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Basic Channel,
The New Christs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Human League,
Colin Newman,
Bill Wells,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Christie,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
D'Angelo,
Deadbeat,
Blake Baxter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
John Lydon,
Joe Smooth,
The Velvet Underground,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
The Buckinghams,
Shuggie Otis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
Niagra,
cv313,
Duran Duran,
The Raincoats,
Ultravox,
Country Teasers,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Animal Collective,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
KRS-One,
Blancmange,
the Association,
Quadrant,
Flamin' Groovies,
Japan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.