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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Television Personalities to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skriet,
Black Sheep,
DNA,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
The Skatalites,
The Gladiators,
Sällskapet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
Mo-Dettes,
Silicon Teens,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wasted Youth,
Oneida,
Intrusion,
Loose Ends,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Smiths,
the Normal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bang On A Can,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vladislav Delay,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Bourne,
Scratch Acid,
Wally Richardson,
Agitation Free,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minnie Riperton,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kurtis Blow,
U.S. Maple,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
The Knickerbockers,
Carl Craig,
Faraquet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kaleidoscope,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ossler,
B.T. Express,
Das Ding,
Alison Limerick,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.