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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Cale to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Motions,
The Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Inner City,
Roxy Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Smooth,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Christie,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Style,
The Modern Lovers,
Glenn Branca,
The Trojans,
Henry Cow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MDC,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Country Teasers,
Derrick May,
Lakeside,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Warren Ellis,
Barbara Tucker,
Rekid,
Scott Walker,
Slave,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Hill,
Faust,
New Order,
Piero Umiliani,
Angry Samoans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harmonia,
Popol Vuh,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sunsets and Hearts,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Bourne,
Godley & Creme,
Khruangbin,
AZ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Steve Hackett,
Y Pants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sarah Menescal,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.