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 South Sudan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Gladiators to the crunk 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Associates,
Maleditus Sound,
Faust,
Carl Craig,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Busters,
Roxy Music,
Adolescents,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Osbourne,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
Don Cherry,
DJ Sneak,
Byron Stingily,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Accadde A,
E-Dancer,
Suburban Knight,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Sherman,
Skriet,
Cameo,
The Real Kids,
Clear Light,
Fear,
Bronski Beat,
Unwound,
Pantytec,
Aaron Thompson,
These Immortal Souls,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Interpol,
The Wake,
Bluetip,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Underground Resistance,
Skaos,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.