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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Ponytail,
Shuggie Otis,
Pierre Henry,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Style,
The Fuzztones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suicide,
The Mojo Men,
Unrelated Segments,
Subhumans,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Excepter,
Reuben Wilson,
Jandek,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Janne Schatter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sarah Menescal,
the Soft Cell,
Qualms,
The Cramps,
Franke,
Alton Ellis,
Au Pairs,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
Hot Snakes,
Patti Smith,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Q65,
Davy DMX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skriet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quantec,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.