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 Comoros 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Durutti Column to the rock 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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yellowson,
Make Up,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Lalo Schifrin,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
Ken Boothe,
Main Source,
Henry Cow,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Womack,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
The Dave Clark Five,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Copeland,
Jandek,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Morten Harket,
Wire,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Aswad,
Sight & Sound,
Parry Music,
Unrelated Segments,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
The Victims,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slits,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
Siglo XX,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ten City,
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.