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 Tajikistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Loose Ends to the techno 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Adolescents,
Model 500,
Goldenarms,
Black Bananas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Howard Jones,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Pole,
Rites of Spring,
Eli Mardock,
Patti Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
Eddi Front,
Scott Walker,
Eve St. Jones,
Magazine,
Lou Reed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Audionom,
Wings,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
Flash Fearless,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Jandek,
Ituana,
Jeff Mills,
The Residents,
Ronan,
The Blues Magoos,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sight & Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond,
Morten Harket,
Steve Hackett,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Althea and Donna,
The Birthday Party,
Tres Demented,
Roxy Music,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.