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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
The Modern Lovers,
The Kinks,
B.T. Express,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Names,
Scan 7,
Cameo,
the Swans,
Pylon,
Lightning Bolt,
John Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultra Naté,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Sunsets and Hearts,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rites of Spring,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Terry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Piero Umiliani,
Marine Girls,
Bob Dylan,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sam Rivers,
The Invisible,
Au Pairs,
Camberwell Now,
Crooked Eye,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ronnie Foster,
New Order,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Stooges,
The Fuzztones,
Adolescents,
R.M.O.,
Smog,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang On A Can,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
PIL,
Dual Sessions,
The Durutti Column,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
Deepchord,
Jawbox,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.