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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Desert Stars to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Cal Tjader,
Subhumans,
The Motions,
Max Romeo,
Lakeside,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cure,
Franke,
Arab on Radar,
Silicon Teens,
Fad Gadget,
Siglo XX,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lightning Bolt,
Isaac Hayes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Man Parrish,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonic Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Coltrane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Arthur Verocai,
Brand Nubian,
Outsiders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Smog,
Neu!,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radio Birdman,
Agitation Free,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
The Fugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
PIL,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
MC5,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Eurythmics,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Ice-T,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.