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 Marshall Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Happenings to the crunk 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nik Kershaw,
Babytalk,
Warsaw,
The Trojans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
MDC,
Jerry's Kids,
Audionom,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Television Personalities,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
Unwound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Royal Trux,
The Angels of Light,
Minor Threat,
Sun City Girls,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
The Dirtbombs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Barracudas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sonic Youth,
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers,
The Remains,
Severed Heads,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fear,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gap Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angry Samoans,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
Livin' Joy,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.