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 Colombia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ 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 X-Ray Spex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
OOIOO,
Magma,
Unwound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dead Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Hood,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
The Angels of Light,
Pulsallama,
Crime,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
Adolescents,
Whodini,
Minny Pops,
Suburban Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Panda Bear,
Scott Walker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Görl,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smoke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kaleidoscope,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Television,
The Sonics,
Ten City,
Malaria!,
Second Layer,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Shuggie Otis,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
The Standells,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arcadia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Black Moon,
Ken Boothe,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.