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 Azerbaijan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Real Kids 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Divine Comedy,
Pylon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxy Music,
Nirvana,
One Last Wish,
The Music Machine,
The American Breed,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Leaves,
Rod Modell,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Agent Orange,
Bill Wells,
Kaleidoscope,
This Heat,
Jawbox,
Slave,
The Knickerbockers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Hill,
Guru Guru,
Faust,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Sound Behaviour,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Enemy,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Surgeon,
Ossler,
KRS-One,
Blancmange,
Eli Mardock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Danielle Patucci,
Duran Duran,
Donny Hathaway,
The Names,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.