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 Luxembourg and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
Delta 5,
The Selecter,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shoche,
Parry Music,
The Mummies,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smiths,
Kurtis Blow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aloha Tigers,
Slave,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Index,
Flash Fearless,
Hardrive,
Duran Duran,
Das Ding,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Von Mondo,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
Wasted Youth,
Howard Jones,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eli Mardock,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
The Standells,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
Panda Bear,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.