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 San Marino and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Can to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Bobby Byrd,
the Germs,
Dead Boys,
the Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
The Mojo Men,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thee Headcoats,
Faust,
Gregory Isaacs,
Adolescents,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David McCallum,
The Busters,
Anthony Braxton,
The Searchers,
Buzzcocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rufus Thomas,
Ponytail,
Eden Ahbez,
Malaria!,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
Das Ding,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kenny Larkin,
Lungfish,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Hill,
OOIOO,
Monolake,
Nick Fraelich,
Spoonie Gee,
Theoretical Girls,
Mad Mike,
PIL,
Easy Going,
The Motions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Essential Logic,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Görl,
Aswad,
The Move,
Stereo Dub,
Metal Thangz,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.