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 Marshall Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Duran Duran to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aaron Thompson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
Echospace,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Eddi Front,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
James White and The Blacks,
Marvin Gaye,
David McCallum,
Nick Fraelich,
the Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster,
Joyce Sims,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maurizio,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Flamin' Groovies,
Newcleus,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
JFA,
Dennis Brown,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Move,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bush Tetras,
Sarah Menescal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
Ice-T,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Loose Ends,
Donald Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.