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 Brunei and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Camberwell Now to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Heaven 17,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Music Machine,
Yazoo,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sister Nancy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Joy Division,
Howard Jones,
DJ Style,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Jacques Brel,
The Offenders,
Ice-T,
Radiohead,
Jawbox,
Alice Coltrane,
the Slits,
PIL,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
The Standells,
Tropical Tobacco,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Near,
D'Angelo,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
Minnie Riperton,
Lalann,
Ossler,
The Young Rascals,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.