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 Spain and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fall to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
The Barracudas,
Inner City,
Gichy Dan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
The Fortunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
Angry Samoans,
Aaron Thompson,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Warren Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
Intrusion,
Eve St. Jones,
Ludus,
Sex Pistols,
The Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marvin Gaye,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABC,
Derrick Morgan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Eric B and Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Chris Corsano,
Gong,
CMW,
The Pretty Things,
Cecil Taylor,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roger Hodgson,
Royal Trux,
Bill Wells,
The Pop Group,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Barbara Tucker,
The Five Americans,
Tomorrow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Excepter,
Deadbeat,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.