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 Nigeria and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blues Magoos to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Nick Fraelich,
Sällskapet,
Colin Newman,
X-Ray Spex,
The Vogues,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
Yazoo,
Television,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Symarip,
Moebius,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rosa Yemen,
Hashim,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
U.S. Maple,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ponytail,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alison Limerick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roxette,
James Chance & The Contortions,
FM Einheit,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Fear,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Young Marble Giants,
MDC,
Scratch Acid,
The Associates,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.