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 Ecuador and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Dice 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman,
Juan Atkins,
The Star Department,
Japan,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Half Japanese,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Pretty Things,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Basic Channel,
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
Blossom Toes,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
New Age Steppers,
One Last Wish,
the Germs,
The Busters,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
Quadrant,
Popol Vuh,
Arthur Verocai,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABC,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
cv313,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Arcadia,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mission of Burma,
KRS-One,
Peter & Gordon,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.