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 Botswana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fortunes to the funk 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth,
Dead Boys,
Lindisfarne,
The Mummies,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
The Raincoats,
Quantec,
Sister Nancy,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Livin' Joy,
the Germs,
Robert Wyatt,
Accadde A,
Essential Logic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yusef Lateef,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vladislav Delay,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anthony Braxton,
June Days,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
K-Klass,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonic Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
cv313,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Clear Light,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
Black Pus,
Marmalade,
The Barracudas,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
Sandy B,
Scan 7,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warsaw,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jandek,
Talk Talk,
The Evens,
Pierre Henry,
Charles Mingus,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.