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 Romania and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 The Birthday Party to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Barracudas,
U.S. Maple,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
Technova,
John Lydon,
Essential Logic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soul II Soul,
Malaria!,
Trumans Water,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Anthony Braxton,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Normal,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moleskins,
The Stooges,
Excepter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Fraelich,
The Slackers,
Quantec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kerri Chandler,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Man Parrish,
Jawbox,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
Kayak,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
Yaz,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Hood,
Tim Buckley,
Yusef Lateef,
Dual Sessions,
The Walker Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Electric Prunes,
Graham Central Station,
The American Breed,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.