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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Oblivians to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Scion,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
Fatback Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Sonics,
Pere Ubu,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Alton Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Massinfluence,
Ornette Coleman,
The United States of America,
Jerry's Kids,
MDC,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
The Modern Lovers,
Bauhaus,
Agent Orange,
Pantaleimon,
The Associates,
Jeff Lynne,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiohead,
PIL,
David Axelrod,
Nas,
Fad Gadget,
The Fortunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Evens,
Eden Ahbez,
The Seeds,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
Neil Young,
Alphaville,
Groovy Waters,
Pantytec,
Goldenarms,
Babytalk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yaz,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.