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 Togo and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
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 Audionom 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare,
The Count Five,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
Quadrant,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
Pagans,
Mantronix,
Drexciya,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Lungfish,
Delta 5,
T. Rex,
Procol Harum,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kayak,
Smog,
Arcadia,
Bad Manners,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
New Order,
The Misunderstood,
Henry Cow,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Terry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra,
Shoche,
Lou Reed,
DJ Sneak,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
ABC,
Eurythmics,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Holt,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
MC5,
Q65,
Hoover,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
David Bowie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chrome,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.