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 Turkmenistan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Glambeats Corp. 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
The Move,
Massinfluence,
Althea and Donna,
The Sound,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
The Barracudas,
Guru Guru,
The Residents,
David McCallum,
Nas,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric Dolphy,
Das Ding,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
Severed Heads,
MDC,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blackbyrds,
Surgeon,
Wings,
Scott Walker,
Audionom,
Marcia Griffiths,
Qualms,
Whodini,
Rod Modell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül II,
Zero Boys,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Finger,
Amazonics,
Bang On A Can,
Angry Samoans,
Jacob Miller,
Rotary Connection,
Youth Brigade,
Liliput,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.