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 Austria and from Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marine Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Victims,
Roxette,
The Cramps,
Connie Case,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Groovy Waters,
Sister Nancy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick Morgan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Lee Hazlewood,
Man Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Whodini,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
Sugar Minott,
The Red Krayola,
Susan Cadogan,
Skarface,
Henry Cow,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Franke,
Tim Buckley,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Negative Approach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marine Girls,
Babytalk,
Chrome,
Robert Hood,
Marvin Gaye,
The Five Americans,
The Fortunes,
Patti Smith,
The Martian,
The Buckinghams,
New York Dolls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nik Kershaw,
Los Fastidios,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.