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 Grenada and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 48th St. Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Roger Hodgson,
Bush Tetras,
Amazonics,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
Faraquet,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Country Teasers,
Hot Snakes,
The Standells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABC,
Pussy Galore,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
Dawn Penn,
Oblivians,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
Max Romeo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deadbeat,
The Happenings,
Circle Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
Judy Mowatt,
Loose Ends,
Saccharine Trust,
Fluxion,
The Names,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
Drexciya,
Steve Hackett,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Lyres,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
The Five Americans,
Minor Threat,
Gichy Dan,
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
Neu!,
Quantec,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
Desert Stars,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.