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 Serbia and from Manila.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Essential Logic,
Supertramp,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
June Days,
Con Funk Shun,
Flamin' Groovies,
Whodini,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eurythmics,
Eddi Front,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joy Division,
Tomorrow,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
Zapp,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Age Steppers,
Scan 7,
Thompson Twins,
Funky Four + One,
Moby Grape,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Skarface,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Green,
Ken Boothe,
The Gun Club,
Marvin Gaye,
Brothers Johnson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Skatalites,
Be Bop Deluxe,
In Retrospect,
Deakin,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
The Residents,
Ice-T,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skaos,
Outsiders,
Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Moss Icon,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.