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 Cambodia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Remains to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Angry Samoans,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
Organ,
The Slackers,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
Camberwell Now,
Echospace,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Second Layer,
Fluxion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Livin' Joy,
The Barracudas,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultra Naté,
Fear,
Jawbox,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tubeway Army,
Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Model 500,
Soft Machine,
Altered Images,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cluster,
Popol Vuh,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
John Holt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Anthony Braxton,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
Lucky Dragons,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ken Boothe,
Toni Rubio,
The Smiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group,
Man Parrish,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eurythmics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.