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 Czech Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the electroclash 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bill Near,
Scientists,
Technova,
the Sonics,
DNA,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radio Birdman,
Minnie Riperton,
Marmalade,
Faust,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
The Searchers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Slits,
The Litter,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
Desert Stars,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Angels of Light,
Lungfish,
The Five Americans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Procol Harum,
Alton Ellis,
Gang of Four,
Malaria!,
The Motions,
Jesper Dahlback,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
Television,
Janne Schatter,
the Association,
Gil Scott Heron,
Idris Muhammad,
Adolescents,
DJ Sneak,
the Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.