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 Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Kayak to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The Saints,
Sixth Finger,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Simply Red,
Drive Like Jehu,
D'Angelo,
Bootsy Collins,
Funky Four + One,
A Certain Ratio,
Pylon,
Young Marble Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cybotron,
Glambeats Corp.,
AZ,
Cheater Slicks,
The Leaves,
Average White Band,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Hill,
Aural Exciters,
Chris & Cosey,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
The Motions,
The Sound,
Max Romeo,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
World's Most,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt,
OOIOO,
Flipper,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Severed Heads,
Tim Buckley,
These Immortal Souls,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
Magma,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Colin Newman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Symarip,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.