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 Comoros and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Scrapy to the funk 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Sam Rivers,
Cluster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cameo,
Deadbeat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
L. Decosne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tubeway Army,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Evens,
Eden Ahbez,
Thee Headcoats,
Boredoms,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
10cc,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Hill,
Kas Product,
Minor Threat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacques Brel,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
PIL,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash,
UT,
Glenn Branca,
The Music Machine,
Moebius,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
Qualms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Urselle,
Gang Starr,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Chris & Cosey,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.