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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Michael McDonald 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
New Age Steppers,
The Slackers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric Copeland,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
Roxette,
John Lydon,
B.T. Express,
The United States of America,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
The Remains,
Swans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fela Kuti,
Desert Stars,
Boredoms,
Leonard Cohen,
Anakelly,
The Residents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funky Four + One,
Camberwell Now,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harmonia,
Country Teasers,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Half Japanese,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Halsall,
Terry Callier,
Brick,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Minny Pops,
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
Khruangbin,
Rotary Connection,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Jeff Mills,
Althea and Donna,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.