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 Syria and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Pretty Things to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Procol Harum,
Roxette,
Aloha Tigers,
Spoonie Gee,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
E-Dancer,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Reed,
Dead Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultravox,
Eric Copeland,
The Kinks,
Liliput,
Marmalade,
Morten Harket,
Joey Negro,
Rites of Spring,
Spandau Ballet,
Kenny Larkin,
DJ Style,
Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Mars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Last Poets,
Yusef Lateef,
Tropical Tobacco,
Letta Mbulu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
The Beau Brummels,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
Darondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter and Kerry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Pylon,
Quantec,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minnie Riperton,
John Lydon,
The Smiths,
Flash Fearless,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.