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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Scan 7,
Man Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Average White Band,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Cale,
Black Moon,
Rapeman,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dirtbombs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
Terry Callier,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DJ Style,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
Delta 5,
Groovy Waters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Sex Pistols,
Minor Threat,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swans,
La Düsseldorf,
Simply Red,
Popol Vuh,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.