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 Sri Lanka and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ituana to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
PIL,
Fluxion,
B.T. Express,
X-102,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Accadde A,
The Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
Idris Muhammad,
Althea and Donna,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lyres,
the Normal,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
Negative Approach,
Blancmange,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Little Man,
The Flesh Eaters,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Das Ding,
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lakeside,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cowsills,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
Ultra Naté,
The New Christs,
Aural Exciters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.