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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neil Young to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Average White Band,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
Pierre Henry,
The Martian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moody Blues,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
Sparks,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skarface,
Stiv Bators,
X-102,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Skatalites,
Inner City,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABC,
Infiniti,
UT,
Rotary Connection,
Main Source,
T. Rex,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
The Move,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Sound Behaviour,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Foxx,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Thompson Twins,
Los Fastidios,
Sight & Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Warsaw,
The Five Americans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
JFA,
Eric Dolphy,
Simply Red,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.