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 South Sudan and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pere Ubu to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog 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?
Amazonics,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grauzone,
Magma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harmonia,
Maleditus Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Technova,
Funkadelic,
Interpol,
Skriet,
Flash Fearless,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gories,
Absolute Body Control,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
The Sound,
ABBA,
Cecil Taylor,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chrome,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
Accadde A,
David McCallum,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Can,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
Nik Kershaw,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fat Boys,
Darondo,
Metal Thangz,
Heaven 17,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Second Layer,
Derrick May,
The Cure,
The Residents,
New Age Steppers,
World's Most,
Intrusion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pierre Henry,
Lakeside,
The Red Krayola,
ABC,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.