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 Malawi and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
World's Most,
Suicide,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
Television Personalities,
The Moleskins,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thompson Twins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yazoo,
Tubeway Army,
Jacques Brel,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
Animal Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Flipper,
Scion,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
The Litter,
Althea and Donna,
Cymande,
The Gap Band,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.