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 San Marino and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Ronan,
a-ha,
The Standells,
Bill Wells,
Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Eli Mardock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quantec,
Gong,
Infiniti,
Pulsallama,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Beau Brummels,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pole,
Rites of Spring,
John Foxx,
The Sonics,
Schoolly D,
Roxy Music,
The Real Kids,
Symarip,
Metal Thangz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Trumans Water,
Sparks,
Chrome,
Scion,
Franke,
Charles Mingus,
The Last Poets,
Mo-Dettes,
Underground Resistance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Hoover,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Happenings,
The Monochrome Set,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echospace,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Modern Lovers,
Pagans,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.