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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wolf Eyes,
Sarah Menescal,
Grauzone,
Pussy Galore,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
X-101,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maurizio,
Tears for Fears,
The Gap Band,
Deepchord,
Faraquet,
Minny Pops,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
Model 500,
The Fugs,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fire Engines,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxy Music,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
James White and The Blacks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swans,
the Germs,
Thee Headcoats,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter & Gordon,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Rakim,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tommy Roe,
The Saints,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
Alice Coltrane,
Section 25,
the Normal,
Funky Four + One,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.