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 Niger and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Vladislav Delay to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lakeside,
Little Man,
Audionom,
Ossler,
Make Up,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minor Threat,
Quando Quango,
Nico,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eddi Front,
Ralphi Rosario,
Guru Guru,
Oblivians,
Dead Boys,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
The Standells,
Warsaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
Royal Trux,
Joy Division,
The Martian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fear,
Kenny Larkin,
The Stooges,
Procol Harum,
Cecil Taylor,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
Laurel Aitken,
Howard Jones,
John Holt,
Pagans,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.