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 Cuba and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugs to the crunk 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aswad,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
X-Ray Spex,
Jawbox,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
FM Einheit,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
T.S.O.L.,
Howard Jones,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
Chris Corsano,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cluster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Motions,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Supertramp,
The Monochrome Set,
Ornette Coleman,
Qualms,
CMW,
Darondo,
Animal Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Mars,
Interpol,
The Slackers,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Urselle,
Rites of Spring,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
Moss Icon,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Organ,
LL Cool J,
Basic Channel,
The Techniques,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.