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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
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 Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cecil Taylor to the punk 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
John Holt,
Roxette,
Joe Finger,
U.S. Maple,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mandrill,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Duran Duran,
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Urselle,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Terry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Todd Rundgren,
Barbara Tucker,
Brothers Johnson,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Lungfish,
Stereo Dub,
X-101,
Magma,
Icehouse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oneida,
Wasted Youth,
Lalann,
The Searchers,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Halsall,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Thompson Twins,
The Index,
KRS-One,
Intrusion,
Juan Atkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dark Day,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Warren Ellis,
Eric Dolphy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Porter Ricks,
The Blackbyrds,
Q65,
Joey Negro,
Crime,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.