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 Slovakia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Magazine to the electroclash 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bob Dylan,
Echospace,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Bluetip,
The Motions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hot Snakes,
Henry Cow,
The Victims,
Matthew Halsall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Y Pants,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hashim,
Maurizio,
Moss Icon,
Warren Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cramps,
Kurtis Blow,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
June Days,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Underground Resistance,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ten City,
Harmonia,
Angry Samoans,
Mars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lightning Bolt,
Mantronix,
Sparks,
Colin Newman,
Michelle Simonal,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Archie Shepp,
The Moleskins,
The Golliwogs,
Mission of Burma,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
Tommy Roe,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.