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 Singapore and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Lou Reed 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Wasted Youth,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smoke,
Franke,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
Skriet,
Minor Threat,
Harry Pussy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fad Gadget,
Erasure,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-102,
The Misunderstood,
Albert Ayler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brass Construction,
The Selecter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
KRS-One,
Lightning Bolt,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
the Germs,
a-ha,
Vladislav Delay,
Leonard Cohen,
FM Einheit,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
The Gap Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David McCallum,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
Jacques Brel,
Junior Murvin,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.