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 Bolivia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Camberwell Now to the grunge 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Faraquet,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Qualms,
Heaven 17,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
The Trojans,
Banda Bassotti,
Eli Mardock,
Harmonia,
Adolescents,
New Age Steppers,
Minutemen,
Y Pants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ituana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
The Kinks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
The Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Flipper,
Nick Fraelich,
Danielle Patucci,
World's Most,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Angels of Light,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Move,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
The Gories,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
Agitation Free,
Sugar Minott,
Sight & Sound,
Talk Talk,
Lebanon Hanover,
OOIOO,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
Symarip,
ABBA,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Sherman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.