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 Finland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Smoke,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
EPMD,
Joensuu 1685,
The Martian,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
The Cramps,
Jacques Brel,
John Holt,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
Yazoo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gichy Dan,
The Fuzztones,
Pole,
Alphaville,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mantronix,
Cameo,
Popol Vuh,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
Pierre Henry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Tremeloes,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
Main Source,
Joey Negro,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Interpol,
DNA,
Eddi Front,
Motorama,
Reuben Wilson,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
Talk Talk,
Fat Boys,
Inner City,
Jandek,
Television,
Grey Daturas,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.