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 Ukraine and from Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stiv Bators to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Warren Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skarface,
the Germs,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Zero Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Audionom,
Siglo XX,
Neu!,
Lucky Dragons,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Excepter,
The Gap Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Wings,
Man Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Talk Talk,
the Swans,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Dead Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kerri Chandler,
Crime,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Cybotron,
Index,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bluetip,
Joe Smooth,
Anakelly,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Saints,
Quadrant,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bob Dylan,
Mars,
Thompson Twins,
Duran Duran,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.