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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grunge 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Urselle,
The Real Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moody Blues,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
Lyres,
Eden Ahbez,
Suburban Knight,
Crime,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dave Gahan,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sound,
Section 25,
Motorama,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Man Parrish,
World's Most,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Anakelly,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Move,
Ultra Naté,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
Flash Fearless,
Andrew Hill,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible,
Wire,
The Happenings,
Ronan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
Yusef Lateef,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yaz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
Gang Green,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.