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 Chad and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 Qualms to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
AZ,
The Dirtbombs,
Popol Vuh,
The Moody Blues,
Fat Boys,
The Happenings,
Connie Case,
X-102,
Blossom Toes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Goldenarms,
Hashim,
Lightning Bolt,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
The Buckinghams,
Lucky Dragons,
Al Stewart,
Procol Harum,
In Retrospect,
Eden Ahbez,
The Tremeloes,
Godley & Creme,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mad Mike,
DJ Style,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Von Mondo,
Marmalade,
Mantronix,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
F. McDonald,
The Slackers,
Fela Kuti,
Buzzcocks,
The Residents,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Make Up,
Kayak,
Aural Exciters,
The Monochrome Set,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
Inner City,
The Electric Prunes,
Colin Newman,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Jawbox,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.