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 El Salvador and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Don Cherry,
Adolescents,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soft Cell,
Flipper,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Von Mondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Görl,
Simply Red,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
Television,
Motorama,
Ludus,
48th St. Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pretty Things,
John Lydon,
Country Teasers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Underground Resistance,
Khruangbin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
Deepchord,
Patti Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Stereo Dub,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Saccharine Trust,
KRS-One,
Charles Mingus,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Yusef Lateef,
Symarip,
Bobby Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalann,
The Monochrome Set,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.