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 Laos and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Mission of Burma to the electroclash 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Hood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
Negative Approach,
PIL,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Radiohead,
kango's stein massive,
Rufus Thomas,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Ice-T,
Michelle Simonal,
Skriet,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Neon Judgement,
Fear,
Johnny Osbourne,
Piero Umiliani,
David Bowie,
The Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
F. McDonald,
Henry Cow,
the Bar-Kays,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultravox,
Shoche,
Sex Pistols,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Man Parrish,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Essential Logic,
Lou Christie,
H. Thieme,
Funkadelic,
Magma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
B.T. Express,
Crime,
Hardrive,
La Düsseldorf,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.