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 Malta and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Swans to the electroclash 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Technova,
Sam Rivers,
Dave Gahan,
Graham Central Station,
The Gladiators,
Nils Olav,
The Associates,
Magazine,
La Düsseldorf,
Qualms,
Little Man,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grauzone,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Talk Talk,
New Order,
Carl Craig,
Fluxion,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gong,
Danielle Patucci,
Ossler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster,
Jerry's Kids,
Joyce Sims,
Eden Ahbez,
The Vogues,
Cecil Taylor,
the Association,
Surgeon,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eli Mardock,
Harry Pussy,
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronan,
JFA,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Althea and Donna,
Hashim,
Black Flag,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
Clear Light,
The Moleskins,
Joe Smooth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Human League,
Nick Fraelich,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.