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 St Lucia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Warsaw to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Mary Jane Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
The Names,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül II,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Index,
Lou Christie,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
Radio Birdman,
World's Most,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
Second Layer,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Almond,
Jeff Lynne,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cramps,
The Associates,
Swell Maps,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Byron Stingily,
Public Enemy,
CMW,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Gang Green,
The Cowsills,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Gang Dance,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Dolphy,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nico,
Infiniti,
DNA,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.