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 Bolivia and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
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 mellotron 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 Sandy B to the techno 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Fluxion,
Kas Product,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Los Fastidios,
Jacques Brel,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tubeway Army,
Cymande,
Todd Rundgren,
Glenn Branca,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pantytec,
Funky Four + One,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Cybotron,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marmalade,
X-101,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Oblivians,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Cell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bad Manners,
The Seeds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Zeros,
Danielle Patucci,
Massinfluence,
Siglo XX,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Panda Bear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
K-Klass,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blake Baxter,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
Tommy Roe,
Rosa Yemen,
The United States of America,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.