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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 John Cale to the funk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Babytalk,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
cv313,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
Heaven 17,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang of Four,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skarface,
Anakelly,
Popol Vuh,
Soft Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
John Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Los Fastidios,
Tears for Fears,
Mantronix,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Clarke,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
Lalann,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
T.S.O.L.,
Carl Craig,
Lightning Bolt,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
Sun City Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oblivians,
Wings,
Dawn Penn,
Barbara Tucker,
Soulsonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Schoolly D,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Graham Central Station,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultravox,
Bush Tetras,
Reagan Youth,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.