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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Hashim to the techno 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
June Days,
Pagans,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pop Group,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Gang Starr,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Pierre Henry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Teasers,
Spandau Ballet,
Laurel Aitken,
The Grass Roots,
The Star Department,
Thee Headcoats,
Monolake,
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Groovy Waters,
Deadbeat,
Mars,
Schoolly D,
Minutemen,
Make Up,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Ronan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Associates,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Black Moon,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blossom Toes,
the Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Letta Mbulu,
Television Personalities,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.