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 United Kingdom and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Unwound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker,
Kayak,
Eddi Front,
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins,
Pere Ubu,
Arab on Radar,
The Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fugs,
U.S. Maple,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Remains,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Womack,
Pylon,
Wolf Eyes,
Darondo,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Saints,
Radiohead,
Joensuu 1685,
The Slits,
Nico,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Copeland,
Smog,
The Smoke,
Oneida,
Godley & Creme,
ABBA,
Aaron Thompson,
Tomorrow,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
The Wake,
John Foxx,
Agent Orange,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roger Hodgson,
Suburban Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Niagra,
Sound Behaviour,
Chrome,
The Misunderstood,
The Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.