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 Australia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Derrick May,
Porter Ricks,
Al Stewart,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slits,
Fat Boys,
The Motions,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
Graham Central Station,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agitation Free,
Harmonia,
Sällskapet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scan 7,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Erasure,
Dawn Penn,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Smoke,
Organ,
Skarface,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
Anakelly,
Bauhaus,
The Leaves,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pere Ubu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
Aural Exciters,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
OOIOO,
Qualms,
Barry Ungar,
Banda Bassotti,
The Birthday Party,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.