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 Moldova and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the jazz 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
La Düsseldorf,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Los Fastidios,
David Bowie,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun City Girls,
L. Decosne,
the Swans,
B.T. Express,
Bill Near,
The Divine Comedy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Halsall,
The Seeds,
Qualms,
Hoover,
Eve St. Jones,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Cameo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
The Count Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
James White and The Blacks,
Idris Muhammad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flipper,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Zeros,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Nas,
T. Rex,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott Heron,
World's Most,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.