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 Maldives and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Man Parrish,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Finger,
Blancmange,
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
Y Pants,
Second Layer,
John Holt,
Camouflage,
The Monks,
D'Angelo,
The Mummies,
The United States of America,
Nas,
The Velvet Underground,
Arthur Verocai,
The Smiths,
The Slits,
Nils Olav,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kerri Chandler,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeff Lynne,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Index,
The Durutti Column,
Mad Mike,
Bluetip,
Pierre Henry,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Das Ding,
David Axelrod,
Minor Threat,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Basic Channel,
the Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Dawn Penn,
Saccharine Trust,
Shoche,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.