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 Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cluster to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
The Last Poets,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Barracudas,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Modern Lovers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris & Cosey,
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
Alton Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dorothy Ashby,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Germs,
Funkadelic,
Reagan Youth,
Adolescents,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Lydon,
The Martian,
Rotary Connection,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Loose Ends,
MC5,
Andrew Hill,
Pantaleimon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eden Ahbez,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Skaos,
The Tremeloes,
Japan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
Flamin' Groovies,
Funky Four + One,
Monks,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.