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 Seychelles and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wire 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
The United States of America,
Alton Ellis,
Archie Shepp,
Scrapy,
the Normal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pussy Galore,
A Flock of Seagulls,
World's Most,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moleskins,
ABC,
Newcleus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Schoolly D,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Colin Newman,
The Evens,
Nirvana,
Hot Snakes,
AZ,
Crime,
Jesper Dahlback,
Vainqueur,
Carl Craig,
Urselle,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Flag,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Sonic Youth,
Bob Dylan,
Ornette Coleman,
DNA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rod Modell,
Mars,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül,
The Neon Judgement,
Sarah Menescal,
Ituana,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faraquet,
Mo-Dettes,
The Residents,
Slick Rick,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.