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 Peru and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Janne Schatter to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Idris Muhammad,
Marine Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
Schoolly D,
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joyce Sims,
The Associates,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
The Wake,
Warsaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Womack,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
Erasure,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barry Ungar,
Bronski Beat,
Warren Ellis,
The Misunderstood,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Ornette Coleman,
Kas Product,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Young Marble Giants,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
Rosa Yemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
Lakeside,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jawbox,
KRS-One,
Livin' Joy,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Buckinghams,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.