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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pretty Things to the jazz 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maleditus Sound,
The Busters,
Warren Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Mo-Dettes,
Niagra,
Silicon Teens,
Kerri Chandler,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
H. Thieme,
The Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unwound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radio Birdman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Saccharine Trust,
The Martian,
Joe Smooth,
The Kinks,
Television Personalities,
Basic Channel,
Y Pants,
Michelle Simonal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kurtis Blow,
Altered Images,
The Remains,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Animal Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
kango's stein massive,
Bob Dylan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
Audionom,
The Moody Blues,
The American Breed,
Joensuu 1685,
The Selecter,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.