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 Montenegro and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 AZ to the jazz 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Jerry's Kids,
Half Japanese,
CMW,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
Robert Hood,
MDC,
Prince Buster,
Organ,
Agent Orange,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Letta Mbulu,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Searchers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Depeche Mode,
David Axelrod,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxette,
David McCallum,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Hardrive,
Man Parrish,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
The Busters,
The Slackers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marvin Gaye,
Icehouse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Bar-Kays,
Wally Richardson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
Minor Threat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
Tim Buckley,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Angels of Light,
Japan,
Eric Copeland,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Smiths,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.