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 Guyana and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 X-102 to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Procol Harum,
Pantytec,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
Vainqueur,
Siglo XX,
Junior Murvin,
U.S. Maple,
Black Sheep,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Anakelly,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Mills,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
The Remains,
The Velvet Underground,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
The Names,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shoche,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Section 25,
Porter Ricks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harmonia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
DNA,
Neil Young,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.