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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lee Hazlewood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
Fear,
Henry Cow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Drexciya,
Underground Resistance,
Mark Hollis,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Harmonia,
Pagans,
Pole,
Infiniti,
X-Ray Spex,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nirvana,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
The Cramps,
Minor Threat,
Blossom Toes,
Piero Umiliani,
Con Funk Shun,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
L. Decosne,
The Pretty Things,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hashim,
The Offenders,
Moebius,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Warsaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pierre Henry,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxy Music,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.