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 Tonga and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Barclay James Harvest,
MDC,
Fluxion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smiths,
The Skatalites,
Black Bananas,
Lucky Dragons,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxette,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Mills,
Kevin Saunderson,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
The Litter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fatback Band,
The Real Kids,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Television,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Goldenarms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
ABBA,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare,
This Heat,
the Bar-Kays,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gun Club,
the Normal,
Niagra,
Mars,
Kas Product,
La Düsseldorf,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
JFA,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
CMW,
Todd Rundgren,
cv313,
The Cowsills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fugazi,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
OOIOO,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Loose Ends,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.