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 El Salvador and from Paris.
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 Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 the Sonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sound Behaviour,
The Young Rascals,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Connie Case,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Durutti Column,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
the Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Subhumans,
Pantytec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Don Cherry,
Maurizio,
The Offenders,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
The Trojans,
Eli Mardock,
Roxette,
Juan Atkins,
Wally Richardson,
The Human League,
Nils Olav,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
John Lydon,
Cameo,
The Fall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jacques Brel,
Stetsasonic,
The Misunderstood,
The Litter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
The New Christs,
Janne Schatter,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Bowie,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Zapp,
Deadbeat,
Joyce Sims,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Walker Brothers,
Suicide,
Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.