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 Georgia and from Accra.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Fad Gadget to the funk 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Crash Course in Science,
Deakin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flipper,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sparks,
Rod Modell,
These Immortal Souls,
Boredoms,
Fear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Japan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deadbeat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stiv Bators,
cv313,
The Martian,
The Moleskins,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra,
Average White Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Yellowson,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Womack,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
Loose Ends,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Black Sheep,
Black Bananas,
The Motions,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
DNA,
Terry Callier,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Barracudas,
UT,
The Searchers,
Bluetip,
The Gories,
New Age Steppers,
The Dirtbombs,
Visage,
Fluxion,
Sexual Harrassment,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.