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 Colombia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 Swell Maps to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arcadia,
Blossom Toes,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slits,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Scan 7,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Index,
Don Cherry,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boredoms,
Tommy Roe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pere Ubu,
These Immortal Souls,
Davy DMX,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fortunes,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Cale,
The Happenings,
Janne Schatter,
Pole,
Niagra,
Cal Tjader,
The Cramps,
MDC,
James White and The Blacks,
OOIOO,
Trumans Water,
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
Scrapy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Görl,
Bronski Beat,
Faraquet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ohio Players,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Judy Mowatt,
Scion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Procol Harum,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.