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 St Lucia 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Tres Demented,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
David McCallum,
Unwound,
Gong,
Amon Düül II,
Eli Mardock,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lungfish,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Average White Band,
Wire,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rekid,
The Litter,
Derrick Morgan,
Amazonics,
Pulsallama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
The Standells,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
Metal Thangz,
Terry Callier,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
Minor Threat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultra Naté,
The Index,
Joensuu 1685,
Royal Trux,
Joe Smooth,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.