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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Albert Ayler to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mad Mike,
The Moleskins,
the Association,
The Knickerbockers,
The Invisible,
Lucky Dragons,
Funkadelic,
The Black Dice,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neu!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spoonie Gee,
Massinfluence,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
The Red Krayola,
Alphaville,
Grandmaster Flash,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C,
The Move,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Peter & Gordon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Finger,
The Count Five,
Sight & Sound,
Altered Images,
10cc,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Delta 5,
Suicide,
The Moody Blues,
a-ha,
Average White Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker,
Subhumans,
Circle Jerks,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
John Lydon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.