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 Slovenia and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 The Monks to the rap 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Y Pants,
Oblivians,
The Techniques,
The Invisible,
Audionom,
Leonard Cohen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wally Richardson,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-101,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Los Fastidios,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Hood,
The Mummies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
In Retrospect,
Rufus Thomas,
Quadrant,
PIL,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
The Doobie Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
Marine Girls,
Rekid,
Pulsallama,
Erasure,
Japan,
The Neon Judgement,
Tubeway Army,
Outsiders,
The Skatalites,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swell Maps,
Morten Harket,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.