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 Guatemala and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Oblivians to the rock 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Cluster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Motions,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
In Retrospect,
The Remains,
Camberwell Now,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
cv313,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flash Fearless,
The Last Poets,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
Bob Dylan,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Icehouse,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
Terrestrial Tones,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Shuggie Otis,
Magazine,
Hot Snakes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magma,
Inner City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Groovy Waters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brass Construction,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls,
Amazonics,
Oneida,
The Residents,
Max Romeo,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.