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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Minor Threat to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Young Marble Giants,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
The American Breed,
La Düsseldorf,
Scratch Acid,
The Sound,
The Martian,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cure,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Gong,
ABBA,
Eddi Front,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Basic Channel,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
Kenny Larkin,
Chrome,
John Coltrane,
Skaos,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacques Brel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
Max Romeo,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang of Four,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Derrick May,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
June of 44,
Deakin,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Sparks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vladislav Delay,
Matthew Halsall,
Spoonie Gee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flash Fearless,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.