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 Laos and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Cramps to the electroclash 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
B.T. Express,
Buzzcocks,
Ice-T,
The Monks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soulsonic Force,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hardrive,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Sam Rivers,
Outsiders,
Blossom Toes,
Yazoo,
Tim Buckley,
Section 25,
Symarip,
Lower 48,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stereo Dub,
Connie Case,
Wolf Eyes,
New Order,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
Fear,
Barbara Tucker,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
Oblivians,
Faraquet,
Deadbeat,
Inner City,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Trumans Water,
The Mojo Men,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.