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 Tonga and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dead Boys to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Eli Mardock,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Move,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
Yazoo,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
Minor Threat,
AZ,
The Gap Band,
The Smiths,
Model 500,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
Sound Behaviour,
Tom Boy,
Hardrive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moleskins,
Don Cherry,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
H. Thieme,
Fluxion,
Erasure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stetsasonic,
Infiniti,
David McCallum,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blackbyrds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marmalade,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sällskapet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.