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 Togo and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 The Angels of Light to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Raincoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
Warsaw,
Barrington Levy,
the Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sonic Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
Tears for Fears,
Tomorrow,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Erykah Badu,
Charles Mingus,
Juan Atkins,
EPMD,
Main Source,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
Nirvana,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
KRS-One,
One Last Wish,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Desert Stars,
The Remains,
Colin Newman,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang of Four,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
CMW,
Magazine,
The Residents,
Au Pairs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.