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 Nauru and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bobby Womack to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Nas,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Görl,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tim Buckley,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeff Lynne,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
LL Cool J,
the Swans,
The Cure,
New Age Steppers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
Drexciya,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
Ronan,
Cameo,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Theoretical Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Kurtis Blow,
Ohio Players,
Crispian St. Peters,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quadrant,
Essential Logic,
The Real Kids,
Glenn Branca,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-102,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Blossom Toes,
The Fugs,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.