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 St Lucia and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sound Behaviour 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Little Man,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Bob Dylan,
Boredoms,
Morten Harket,
Scott Walker,
Tommy Roe,
Tim Buckley,
Jawbox,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
Henry Cow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Barbara Tucker,
Ken Boothe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fugazi,
Visage,
Section 25,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Bobby Sherman,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dead C,
CMW,
Neu!,
Radiohead,
The Tremeloes,
Guru Guru,
The Blackbyrds,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pere Ubu,
Amazonics,
Lower 48,
Junior Murvin,
Y Pants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glenn Branca,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Human League,
Severed Heads,
Ohio Players,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doors,
Soul II Soul,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sam Rivers,
The Fugs,
The Moleskins,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.