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 Armenia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Amazonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Stooges,
Maleditus Sound,
Magma,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Standells,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
Oneida,
Unwound,
Parry Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare,
Darondo,
Todd Terry,
Sight & Sound,
Harmonia,
Thompson Twins,
Man Parrish,
Al Stewart,
Liliput,
Henry Cow,
Sonic Youth,
The Red Krayola,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Lydon,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grauzone,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Copeland,
Simply Red,
Animal Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slackers,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers,
Stereo Dub,
Radio Birdman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Offenders,
the Normal,
China Crisis,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Buzzcocks,
K-Klass,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
Rosa Yemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jawbox,
The Happenings,
Royal Trux,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.