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 Honduras and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Mandrill to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Sound,
The Searchers,
Excepter,
Roxy Music,
Fugazi,
Rotary Connection,
Marshall Jefferson,
Franke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Durutti Column,
Hasil Adkins,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
UT,
The Gap Band,
Joe Finger,
These Immortal Souls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Reagan Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cheater Slicks,
Simply Red,
Alton Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
H. Thieme,
Minor Threat,
The Modern Lovers,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
Porter Ricks,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
Sound Behaviour,
Loose Ends,
Lou Christie,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bill Near,
Heaven 17,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
Roxette,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.