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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lou Reed 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 Velvet Underground to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Carl Craig,
Accadde A,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Susan Cadogan,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
The Mojo Men,
Bang On A Can,
The Barracudas,
Aloha Tigers,
Malaria!,
FM Einheit,
Maurizio,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Cymande,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hardrive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dead C,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Mo-Dettes,
The Last Poets,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
Animal Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
Tim Buckley,
Roger Hodgson,
Junior Murvin,
Maleditus Sound,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Warsaw,
Boredoms,
The Standells,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.