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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the disco 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lungfish,
Black Bananas,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
The Pretty Things,
Kas Product,
Aloha Tigers,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
The Raincoats,
Gichy Dan,
Banda Bassotti,
It's A Beautiful Day,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Young Marble Giants,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
Sam Rivers,
Pagans,
Janne Schatter,
Cameo,
The Last Poets,
Niagra,
Anakelly,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eli Mardock,
The Wake,
The Cramps,
Interpol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quando Quango,
The Gap Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
Mark Hollis,
Lindisfarne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Circle Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stetsasonic,
The Beau Brummels,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Flipper,
Al Stewart,
Altered Images,
John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.