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 Peru and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
The Smoke,
Angry Samoans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Whodini,
Jawbox,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Names,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Hot Snakes,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Velvet Underground,
Livin' Joy,
Sun City Girls,
The Gun Club,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Litter,
The Evens,
DNA,
T. Rex,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Pole,
Johnny Clarke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
Loose Ends,
Jandek,
CMW,
The Stooges,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Clear Light,
Donny Hathaway,
Unwound,
Circle Jerks,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
Bill Wells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L.,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Busters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Banda Bassotti,
10cc,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.