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 Djibouti and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer 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 Minutemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Barbara Tucker,
Livin' Joy,
Quadrant,
Adolescents,
Animal Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fortunes,
the Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fatback Band,
Slave,
Gang Gang Dance,
Outsiders,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
Hasil Adkins,
Royal Trux,
Godley & Creme,
Cybotron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stetsasonic,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mummies,
Ice-T,
The Young Rascals,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Rekid,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
OOIOO,
Nils Olav,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.