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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Infiniti to the rock 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
Youth Brigade,
The Red Krayola,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Model 500,
Curtis Mayfield,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rosa Yemen,
The Remains,
Gang of Four,
Don Cherry,
the Normal,
Black Flag,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
Albert Ayler,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül II,
The Slackers,
John Cale,
Arcadia,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra,
Ponytail,
Desert Stars,
Eric Dolphy,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Animal Collective,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
Lungfish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Althea and Donna,
The Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mandrill,
Thompson Twins,
Deakin,
Con Funk Shun,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
the Soft Cell,
Agitation Free,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.