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 Vietnam and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Neu!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Moon,
Urselle,
Kayak,
The Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sonics,
Technova,
Nik Kershaw,
Crooked Eye,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Litter,
The Golliwogs,
Sex Pistols,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delon & Dalcan,
D'Angelo,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Lucky Dragons,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Leonard Cohen,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
Boz Scaggs,
New York Dolls,
The Knickerbockers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David Bowie,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Halsall,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Holt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
L. Decosne,
Rakim,
Deepchord,
Skriet,
Desert Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.