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 Marshall Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Accadde A,
Hashim,
Morten Harket,
Kool Moe Dee,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
The Young Rascals,
Spoonie Gee,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
the Swans,
Inner City,
Leonard Cohen,
UT,
Fear,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Von Mondo,
Black Sheep,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Procol Harum,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Sister Nancy,
Rekid,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
Hot Snakes,
Little Man,
Arab on Radar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Guru Guru,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Skarface,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra,
Agent Orange,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.