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 Pakistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Parrish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Main Source,
Scientists,
the Swans,
Rosa Yemen,
Moby Grape,
Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
The Wake,
Massinfluence,
Ronan,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxette,
The Tremeloes,
The Fall,
Faust,
Stetsasonic,
Crispy Ambulance,
L. Decosne,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Byrd,
Little Man,
Flash Fearless,
Alton Ellis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Agent Orange,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Letta Mbulu,
The Buckinghams,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
KRS-One,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Alphaville,
Glenn Branca,
R.M.O.,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Nation of Ulysses,
OOIOO,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
The Sound,
Black Flag,
Rekid,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.