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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joyce Sims to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Sparks,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
MC5,
MDC,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
48th St. Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zapp,
Steve Hackett,
Moebius,
Faraquet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Stooges,
Lightning Bolt,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
Country Teasers,
The Monochrome Set,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heaven 17,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Sun Ra,
Yazoo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Saccharine Trust,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glenn Branca,
Morten Harket,
Jacob Miller,
Fat Boys,
Fela Kuti,
Dark Day,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
Nik Kershaw,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
FM Einheit,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
Youth Brigade,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Residents,
Clear Light,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.