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 Pakistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Cybotron,
Japan,
Zapp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ituana,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June Days,
Little Man,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Boz Scaggs,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy Collins,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
PIL,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bauhaus,
Public Enemy,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Crash Course in Science,
Dennis Brown,
Parry Music,
Pere Ubu,
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Ossler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronan,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Silicon Teens,
Laurel Aitken,
Lalann,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Juan Atkins,
Neil Young,
U.S. Maple,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.