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 Georgia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 John Lydon to the electroclash 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Surgeon,
David Axelrod,
Agent Orange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
The Star Department,
Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Misunderstood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
Eli Mardock,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-Ray Spex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pere Ubu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marine Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang of Four,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Durutti Column,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soft Machine,
Wire,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kayak,
The Neon Judgement,
Duran Duran,
The Gories,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader,
Amazonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick Morgan,
Icehouse,
Dead Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.