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 Honduras and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare 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 Chris & Cosey to the punk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faust,
10cc,
The Victims,
The New Christs,
The Fire Engines,
Hashim,
Arcadia,
Agitation Free,
Todd Terry,
Make Up,
Fatback Band,
Alphaville,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Deepchord,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
Althea and Donna,
The Black Dice,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scott Walker,
Wings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
Severed Heads,
Delta 5,
the Germs,
Blossom Toes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Godley & Creme,
The Monochrome Set,
Alice Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Michelle Simonal,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Sherman,
the Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Pierre Henry,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
Sarah Menescal,
Niagra,
Electric Prunes,
Q65,
Scion,
The Golliwogs,
U.S. Maple,
Swell Maps,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.