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 Austria 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Normal 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Ponytail,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Das Ding,
Minor Threat,
Junior Murvin,
The Gories,
David Bowie,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
R.M.O.,
Agent Orange,
Country Teasers,
The Cramps,
Soft Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Henry Cow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Index,
Dead Boys,
Masters at Work,
The Evens,
Urselle,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
Ten City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Basic Channel,
Pussy Galore,
Mad Mike,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wasted Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Fraelich,
Nils Olav,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
the Swans,
Unrelated Segments,
kango's stein massive,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Althea and Donna,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nirvana,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Moon,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.