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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ronan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Section 25,
Zero Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
FM Einheit,
Metal Thangz,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Hardrive,
Oneida,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gun Club,
Yazoo,
Bill Near,
Scratch Acid,
Brand Nubian,
Model 500,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Outsiders,
Albert Ayler,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
Surgeon,
Mission of Burma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barrington Levy,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sonics,
Urselle,
Circle Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Deepchord,
Prince Buster,
Lyres,
Black Moon,
Magazine,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sandy B,
Interpol,
Patti Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Tom Boy,
Arab on Radar,
Joe Smooth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eddi Front,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soulsonic Force,
Janne Schatter,
Unwound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eurythmics,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.