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 Singapore and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 the Sonics to the punk 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
B.T. Express,
Accadde A,
Arcadia,
Boz Scaggs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T.S.O.L.,
Fugazi,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
Radio Birdman,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Judy Mowatt,
Soulsonic Force,
David Axelrod,
Joe Smooth,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eddi Front,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Drexciya,
Robert Görl,
Public Enemy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
The Barracudas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donny Hathaway,
Jawbox,
Black Sheep,
Dead Boys,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Liliput,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.