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 Argentina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nirvana to the rap 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
Organ,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David McCallum,
Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Panda Bear,
Masters at Work,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arcadia,
Skarface,
These Immortal Souls,
CMW,
Stereo Dub,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Altered Images,
Eric Copeland,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skriet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cal Tjader,
Suicide,
Tres Demented,
Byron Stingily,
Dual Sessions,
Kurtis Blow,
ABC,
Section 25,
Clear Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Inner City,
The Offenders,
Banda Bassotti,
Sugar Minott,
Wings,
Eden Ahbez,
The Busters,
Minutemen,
Marc Almond,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Q65,
Half Japanese,
Alice Coltrane,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
Sister Nancy,
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.