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 St Lucia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin 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 Andrew Hill to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Delta 5,
Stiv Bators,
Mandrill,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
Theoretical Girls,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
DJ Sneak,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ronnie Foster,
Accadde A,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Susan Cadogan,
Silicon Teens,
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Mills,
Vladislav Delay,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donald Byrd,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
Stetsasonic,
Patti Smith,
Sällskapet,
Bauhaus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blancmange,
Tom Boy,
Tim Buckley,
B.T. Express,
Sugar Minott,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.