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 Costa Rica and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Banda Bassotti to the grime 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Kaleidoscope,
Glenn Branca,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Au Pairs,
The Happenings,
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Visage,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arab on Radar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Trumans Water,
Parry Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monochrome Set,
Skarface,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sonic Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smiths,
The Beau Brummels,
ABBA,
Whodini,
Saccharine Trust,
the Association,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Popol Vuh,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Althea and Donna,
Von Mondo,
Delta 5,
In Retrospect,
The Searchers,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
The Tremeloes,
Byron Stingily,
The Sonics,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.