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 Tunisia and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 These Immortal Souls 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wire,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blancmange,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
Erykah Badu,
Mark Hollis,
The Techniques,
Scion,
Japan,
Rufus Thomas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Count Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Subhumans,
Crime,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alphaville,
Junior Murvin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Music Machine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter,
The Grass Roots,
Don Cherry,
Underground Resistance,
Groovy Waters,
Half Japanese,
Stetsasonic,
Simply Red,
Whodini,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Average White Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Doors,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.