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 Russia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lightning Bolt to the grime 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
The Move,
Interpol,
Mission of Burma,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mummies,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lightning Bolt,
Moebius,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
The Birthday Party,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joy Division,
Pierre Henry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
UT,
Colin Newman,
Infiniti,
Chris & Cosey,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
The Count Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deakin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Model 500,
Don Cherry,
The Smiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
Simply Red,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blake Baxter,
Malaria!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Coltrane,
Whodini,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.