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 Panama and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Bad Manners to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
Shoche,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neil Young,
Scrapy,
Negative Approach,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Soft Cell,
Yellowson,
Jeff Mills,
Wolf Eyes,
48th St. Collective,
Jawbox,
Faust,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fortunes,
John Lydon,
T. Rex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Massinfluence,
Derrick Morgan,
H. Thieme,
Black Sheep,
Roxy Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Patti Smith,
Pulsallama,
Fatback Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Letta Mbulu,
Quadrant,
Cluster,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
Cecil Taylor,
Lightning Bolt,
Scan 7,
Technova,
The Kinks,
Robert Görl,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
Interpol,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
Kas Product,
Minor Threat,
The Music Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fall,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.