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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Robert Görl to the grunge 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed,
Theoretical Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Erykah Badu,
Suburban Knight,
Prince Buster,
Eve St. Jones,
the Normal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Los Fastidios,
Tom Boy,
Ossler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
10cc,
Cymande,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tim Buckley,
Gong,
The Wake,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Crooked Eye,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
a-ha,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Neon Judgement,
The Tremeloes,
Spoonie Gee,
The Vogues,
Kerrie Biddell,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Style,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
Icehouse,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-101,
AZ,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eddi Front,
Joy Division,
The Black Dice,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.