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 Cameroon and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masters at Work to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Deepchord,
The Fire Engines,
Lyres,
Bobby Womack,
Circle Jerks,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Aural Exciters,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Ken Boothe,
Whodini,
The Mummies,
Visage,
The Fugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Metal Thangz,
The Residents,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
The Wake,
The Cramps,
the Sonics,
Darondo,
The Pretty Things,
David Axelrod,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Mills,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Warsaw,
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chrome,
The Monks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
Intrusion,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.