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 Guyana and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James White and The Blacks to the electroclash 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
The Busters,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
H. Thieme,
Cybotron,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Simply Red,
Chris Corsano,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Idris Muhammad,
Mad Mike,
June Days,
Chris & Cosey,
The Invisible,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Y Pants,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Harry Pussy,
Sällskapet,
Piero Umiliani,
John Holt,
Stetsasonic,
Young Marble Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fall,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
Marine Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Soft Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
Negative Approach,
Josef K,
Model 500,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.