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 Eritrea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 to the electroclash 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
Whodini,
Sarah Menescal,
Crime,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Derrick Morgan,
Joyce Sims,
Duran Duran,
Heaven 17,
Von Mondo,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sound Behaviour,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Scion,
the Swans,
Sonic Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Interpol,
Pole,
Charles Mingus,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
John Lydon,
Judy Mowatt,
Half Japanese,
Massinfluence,
Inner City,
Sixth Finger,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monks,
Bluetip,
R.M.O.,
Easy Going,
In Retrospect,
Kevin Saunderson,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion,
June of 44,
The Gories,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warren Ellis,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.