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 Ukraine and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cramps to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
China Crisis,
Roxette,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Infiniti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacob Miller,
Yusef Lateef,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Fat Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
Moss Icon,
Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Prince Buster,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
In Retrospect,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New York Dolls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
Stetsasonic,
F. McDonald,
Mary Jane Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marshall Jefferson,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Qualms,
Television,
Warren Ellis,
Danielle Patucci,
New Order,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Nico,
Clear Light,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Oblivians,
Angry Samoans,
The Smoke,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.