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 Cyprus and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Warsaw to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Television,
Siglo XX,
Niagra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blake Baxter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aswad,
48th St. Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Grauzone,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Invisible,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
Cameo,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Foxx,
Vainqueur,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Byron Stingily,
Altered Images,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
DJ Style,
Fort Wilson Riot,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unwound,
Tom Boy,
PIL,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yusef Lateef,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Deakin,
Deepchord,
the Bar-Kays,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Anthony Braxton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Associates,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.