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 Brunei and from Delhi.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sonny Sharrock 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gap Band,
The Searchers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
Hot Snakes,
Rosa Yemen,
Wolf Eyes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Mars,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
Warsaw,
DNA,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oblivians,
Animal Collective,
Whodini,
James White and The Blacks,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
Amon Düül II,
June of 44,
The Toasters,
Minnie Riperton,
Drive Like Jehu,
Byron Stingily,
Kerri Chandler,
Stetsasonic,
Niagra,
Brick,
cv313,
Vladislav Delay,
Kas Product,
Wire,
Ludus,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Hasil Adkins,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skaos,
Arthur Verocai,
Stereo Dub,
The Index,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.