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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
John Coltrane,
Surgeon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dave Gahan,
Alphaville,
Boredoms,
Heaven 17,
Faraquet,
Blossom Toes,
Bauhaus,
Ronan,
Michelle Simonal,
Vainqueur,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
D'Angelo,
David McCallum,
Black Flag,
Funky Four + One,
Yaz,
Drexciya,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Sheep,
Y Pants,
Interpol,
Sam Rivers,
Archie Shepp,
Gong,
Stiv Bators,
Ossler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barbara Tucker,
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
ABC,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
Trumans Water,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
Khruangbin,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Andrew Hill,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Human League,
The Moleskins,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Image Ltd.,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
Cheater Slicks,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.