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 Palau and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 Ultravox to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thee Headcoats,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joyce Sims,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
James White and The Blacks,
Surgeon,
CMW,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Görl,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Accadde A,
The Pop Group,
Con Funk Shun,
Max Romeo,
Slick Rick,
The Walker Brothers,
Maurizio,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
The Standells,
PIL,
Masters at Work,
ABBA,
Bush Tetras,
Davy DMX,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
Swans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moleskins,
Circle Jerks,
Rapeman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nas,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerri Chandler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Motorama,
Q and Not U,
Yellowson,
The Skatalites,
Fluxion,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Fraelich,
Lucky Dragons,
Graham Central Station,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.