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 Lesotho and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Last Poets to the techno 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Porter Ricks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gichy Dan,
Y Pants,
The Wake,
The Gun Club,
E-Dancer,
The Selecter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Von Mondo,
Todd Rundgren,
the Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Agent Orange,
Alison Limerick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Popol Vuh,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül II,
Idris Muhammad,
Maleditus Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Anakelly,
Neil Young,
CMW,
Barbara Tucker,
Camouflage,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak,
James White and The Blacks,
In Retrospect,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gories,
David Axelrod,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
Shoche,
Connie Case,
JFA,
Loose Ends,
Robert Görl,
H. Thieme,
UT,
Technova,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nico,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.