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 Kuwait and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator 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 mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
The American Breed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fatback Band,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suicide,
Audionom,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Agent Orange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Eve St. Jones,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
Spandau Ballet,
Cal Tjader,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unwound,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
The Mojo Men,
Aloha Tigers,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
Ultra Naté,
Jeff Mills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Terry,
Grey Daturas,
The Real Kids,
Ice-T,
Dennis Brown,
In Retrospect,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pagans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anthony Braxton,
Thee Headcoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Alison Limerick,
Gong,
Barry Ungar,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Agitation Free,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Cecil Taylor,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.