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 Rwanda and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wasted Youth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Deepchord,
The Buckinghams,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liliput,
Depeche Mode,
Qualms,
Boredoms,
Intrusion,
Derrick May,
Kas Product,
The Gun Club,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
OOIOO,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Scientists,
Bauhaus,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Alton Ellis,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Velvet Underground,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
Toni Rubio,
Fluxion,
Sonic Youth,
UT,
The Pretty Things,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Star Department,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Duran Duran,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Barclay James Harvest,
David McCallum,
Loose Ends,
Chrome,
Neil Young,
Jacob Miller,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minutemen,
Dead Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.