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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Qualms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
The Wake,
Flipper,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
The Offenders,
Television,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Davy DMX,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barrington Levy,
Connie Case,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pantytec,
Visage,
The Standells,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Halsall,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blake Baxter,
Patti Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
a-ha,
Quantec,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
One Last Wish,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
Minutemen,
Outsiders,
Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Mars,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABC,
Bobby Byrd,
Simply Red,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter and Kerry,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.