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 Oman and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cameo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Supertramp,
The American Breed,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anakelly,
Section 25,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
Average White Band,
The Offenders,
The Residents,
The Monks,
Scott Walker,
John Foxx,
The Wake,
B.T. Express,
Robert Hood,
Warren Ellis,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minor Threat,
Arab on Radar,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Slick Rick,
Derrick Morgan,
Soul II Soul,
Simply Red,
The Fortunes,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
Blake Baxter,
Khruangbin,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scion,
Circle Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Womack,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Yazoo,
OOIOO,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Goldenarms,
Suburban Knight,
Pussy Galore,
Ossler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Symarip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.