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 Ecuador and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Con Funk Shun to the grime 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Aswad,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Rundgren,
UT,
Parry Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Buzzcocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Matthew Halsall,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mo-Dettes,
Connie Case,
Neu!,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
The Dead C,
New Age Steppers,
Con Funk Shun,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
Sight & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hashim,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Scan 7,
Deepchord,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blancmange,
John Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Spoonie Gee,
Moby Grape,
The Fall,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Magma,
Schoolly D,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
Mantronix,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
The Doobie Brothers,
Delta 5,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
Nico,
New Order,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.