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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Judy Mowatt to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Joy Division,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cecil Taylor,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Rundgren,
Laurel Aitken,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
Henry Cow,
Magazine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
David McCallum,
Groovy Waters,
Public Enemy,
The Searchers,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Bourne,
Yellowson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fugazi,
Japan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Maurizio,
Pantaleimon,
Index,
the Association,
Livin' Joy,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Agitation Free,
the Soft Cell,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Faust,
The Sound,
Eddi Front,
Girls At Our Best!,
Niagra,
The Gun Club,
The Gladiators,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantytec,
The Fire Engines,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fluxion,
Moebius,
Todd Terry,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
Nirvana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.