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 Honduras and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 F. McDonald to the techno 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Y Pants,
Excepter,
Surgeon,
The Remains,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Connie Case,
Thompson Twins,
Donald Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Ice-T,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rod Modell,
The Residents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chrome,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
Roger Hodgson,
Colin Newman,
Panda Bear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gap Band,
Brick,
Animal Collective,
Au Pairs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
The Doors,
X-Ray Spex,
Newcleus,
Joyce Sims,
Ken Boothe,
Cameo,
Stiv Bators,
The Fuzztones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
LL Cool J,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.