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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Mojo Men to the punk 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Black Moon,
the Swans,
Avey Tare,
Dawn Penn,
Mission of Burma,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stereo Dub,
Jeff Lynne,
Lindisfarne,
The Busters,
Funkadelic,
Surgeon,
These Immortal Souls,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Grey Daturas,
Rites of Spring,
Colin Newman,
Sonic Youth,
Khruangbin,
Scan 7,
Kerrie Biddell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mo-Dettes,
Average White Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Malaria!,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Sherman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jimmy McGriff,
Buzzcocks,
Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
Trumans Water,
Radiohead,
X-Ray Spex,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Camberwell Now,
Skaos,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Godley & Creme,
Wasted Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.