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 Armenia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Sonic Youth to the dance 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
a-ha,
The United States of America,
Silicon Teens,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Byron Stingily,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aural Exciters,
David Axelrod,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Christie,
Symarip,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
Anakelly,
Lyres,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fire Engines,
Eric Dolphy,
Ronnie Foster,
The New Christs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scrapy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vainqueur,
Ultra Naté,
Michelle Simonal,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rakim,
Absolute Body Control,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
Barrington Levy,
The Residents,
Rosa Yemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Con Funk Shun,
Q and Not U,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxy Music,
The Stooges,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.