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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vainqueur to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Pet Shop Boys,
Metal Thangz,
The Index,
The Offenders,
Ponytail,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Fear,
Todd Terry,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
Vainqueur,
Susan Cadogan,
Albert Ayler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Copeland,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Young Marble Giants,
Fad Gadget,
X-102,
Jandek,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unwound,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Heaven 17,
The Gories,
Bad Manners,
Au Pairs,
The Slits,
Bootsy Collins,
June of 44,
Black Moon,
Main Source,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stiv Bators,
Barry Ungar,
cv313,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
Groovy Waters,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Eve St. Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.