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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Names to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Y Pants,
Absolute Body Control,
June of 44,
Ituana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maurizio,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
Avey Tare,
Theoretical Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Talk Talk,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Arthur Verocai,
Monks,
Whodini,
Robert Hood,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Jimmy McGriff,
Juan Atkins,
Danielle Patucci,
In Retrospect,
Youth Brigade,
Nas,
Bluetip,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks,
H. Thieme,
Basic Channel,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
Deakin,
The Associates,
The Moleskins,
Mandrill,
The Tremeloes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slave,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.