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 Jamaica and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Durutti Column to the electroclash 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minny Pops,
The Stooges,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alison Limerick,
Funky Four + One,
Spandau Ballet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eden Ahbez,
Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Ronan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Metal Thangz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dual Sessions,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Brothers Johnson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gun Club,
The Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
10cc,
Lungfish,
Massinfluence,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Derrick Morgan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Chris Corsano,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pere Ubu,
Deepchord,
Aswad,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Hood,
PIL,
The Victims,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sarah Menescal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.