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 Papua New Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 chamberlin 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 Heaven 17 to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
Danielle Patucci,
Lightning Bolt,
The Skatalites,
Black Sheep,
Fugazi,
The Litter,
Moebius,
Anthony Braxton,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rapeman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
Pantytec,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Scrapy,
Deadbeat,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fat Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Connie Case,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
Crispian St. Peters,
Banda Bassotti,
Albert Ayler,
Goldenarms,
Amon Düül II,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Smog,
David McCallum,
Joey Negro,
Pylon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
Eyeless In Gaza,
MDC,
Suburban Knight,
Dual Sessions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pagans,
Brick,
Dawn Penn,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blackbyrds,
Au Pairs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
In Retrospect,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.