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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monochrome Set,
Pole,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
Television,
F. McDonald,
Ronan,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
R.M.O.,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
Ultra Naté,
Visage,
Kurtis Blow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare,
The Dirtbombs,
Porter Ricks,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Au Pairs,
Flamin' Groovies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Invisible,
Ponytail,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harmonia,
Laurel Aitken,
Yellowson,
Fela Kuti,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Glenn Branca,
Agitation Free,
Zapp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Popol Vuh,
Goldenarms,
Moss Icon,
The Slackers,
Qualms,
Neu!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.