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 Monaco and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Germs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Bauhaus,
Hashim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Youth Brigade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacques Brel,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Sexual Harrassment,
Little Man,
Pantytec,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
The Raincoats,
New Age Steppers,
Rotary Connection,
Brass Construction,
The Slits,
Tim Buckley,
The Searchers,
Fluxion,
Bill Near,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Massinfluence,
Albert Ayler,
The Residents,
Skaos,
Morten Harket,
Flipper,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins,
Negative Approach,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Duran Duran,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Freddie Wadling,
Index,
La Düsseldorf,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.