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 Maldives and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Cure to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
Lindisfarne,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terrestrial Tones,
Adolescents,
Animal Collective,
Tommy Roe,
Qualms,
Franke,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Connie Case,
Moby Grape,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
MDC,
Section 25,
The Doors,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sarah Menescal,
Laurel Aitken,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Pus,
The Fortunes,
Livin' Joy,
Maleditus Sound,
Ludus,
Massinfluence,
Sun City Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
Wasted Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aloha Tigers,
Anakelly,
Fear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
Steve Hackett,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
T. Rex,
Gang Green,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Delta 5,
Icehouse,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dark Day,
The Fall,
the Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.