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 Gambia and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lindisfarne,
R.M.O.,
Don Cherry,
Roxy Music,
Main Source,
Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hardrive,
Iggy Pop,
Barry Ungar,
Icehouse,
Ohio Players,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Japan,
Robert Görl,
Alphaville,
Letta Mbulu,
The Techniques,
The Divine Comedy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dead Boys,
Technova,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bluetip,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
Mars,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
T. Rex,
Wolf Eyes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
These Immortal Souls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kayak,
The Golliwogs,
Moby Grape,
Hoover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blancmange,
Swell Maps,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The United States of America,
The Walker Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.