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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lightning Bolt 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Animal Collective,
The Beau Brummels,
The Vogues,
the Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
Ultravox,
Peter and Kerry,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soulsonic Force,
Al Stewart,
Country Teasers,
KRS-One,
Morten Harket,
Gang Starr,
Kurtis Blow,
The Techniques,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
Moby Grape,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Slits,
Delta 5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Angels of Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Intrusion,
MDC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Clarke,
Roxette,
Ronnie Foster,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Depeche Mode,
Gabor Szabo,
The Offenders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
Bauhaus,
Tears for Fears,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
World's Most,
The United States of America,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.