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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rock 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television,
New York Dolls,
Dave Gahan,
The American Breed,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
UT,
Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
Outsiders,
Thompson Twins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scan 7,
The Grass Roots,
Pussy Galore,
Q and Not U,
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
Peter & Gordon,
Aural Exciters,
Urselle,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Deepchord,
Pole,
Tommy Roe,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Seeds,
The Index,
Rotary Connection,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Anakelly,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Christie,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Steve Hackett,
Tim Buckley,
Bush Tetras,
The Trojans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.