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 Mozambique and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 The Litter 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Skriet,
Symarip,
The United States of America,
David Bowie,
T. Rex,
the Sonics,
Agitation Free,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Rundgren,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Stiv Bators,
LL Cool J,
Minny Pops,
Cecil Taylor,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Almond,
Kurtis Blow,
Joensuu 1685,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kas Product,
the Human League,
The Gun Club,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-101,
Wolf Eyes,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Smog,
The Doors,
Frankie Knuckles,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
Scion,
Angry Samoans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marvin Gaye,
Guru Guru,
EPMD,
David McCallum,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
Crooked Eye,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Steve Hackett,
Gastr Del Sol,
UT,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.