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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Monochrome Set to the funk 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxette,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
The Busters,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bill Near,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mary Jane Girls,
Reagan Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Technova,
Hoover,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
Slave,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wally Richardson,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Albert Ayler,
World's Most,
the Sonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Derrick May,
The Gun Club,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nik Kershaw,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Boogie Down Productions,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Pus,
Thompson Twins,
Donald Byrd,
K-Klass,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tom Boy,
Bob Dylan,
Dual Sessions,
Idris Muhammad,
Quando Quango,
Echospace,
Grauzone,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.