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 Greece and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Blossom Toes,
June Days,
Youth Brigade,
Joy Division,
Bluetip,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
Donald Byrd,
Swell Maps,
Fear,
In Retrospect,
Pere Ubu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Model 500,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drexciya,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Byrd,
Massinfluence,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultravox,
Bill Wells,
Mandrill,
Idris Muhammad,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
Au Pairs,
JFA,
Fluxion,
Deadbeat,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joyce Sims,
Q65,
Althea and Donna,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
The Five Americans,
Black Sheep,
Basic Channel,
Sight & Sound,
Wire,
Mantronix,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Evens,
Swans,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Busters,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.