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 Tonga and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kurtis Blow to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Schoolly D,
Heaven 17,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
Bush Tetras,
The Index,
John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
The Angels of Light,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
Maurizio,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Nirvana,
Deakin,
Jeff Lynne,
Alphaville,
Vainqueur,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bad Manners,
Camouflage,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
Dennis Brown,
The United States of America,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
Funkadelic,
Easy Going,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rakim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
Rites of Spring,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-102,
Liliput,
Metal Thangz,
La Düsseldorf,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Raincoats,
Blake Baxter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.