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 Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Ultra Naté to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
The Angels of Light,
Warren Ellis,
Cecil Taylor,
Von Mondo,
B.T. Express,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül,
Ralphi Rosario,
MDC,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neu!,
Depeche Mode,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barclay James Harvest,
PIL,
Alton Ellis,
Thompson Twins,
R.M.O.,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monks,
Deepchord,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
Hot Snakes,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
Jandek,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
The Fire Engines,
UT,
Boredoms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delta 5,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry's Kids,
The Skatalites,
World's Most,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Fela Kuti,
Q65,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
a-ha,
Suicide,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.