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 Taiwan and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 The Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
ABC,
Pole,
This Heat,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
Organ,
Lyres,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
Todd Terry,
Brick,
Althea and Donna,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
X-101,
Easy Going,
Rekid,
The Gun Club,
Dave Gahan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Stereo Dub,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monochrome Set,
PIL,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Suicide,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Glenn Branca,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Leaves,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
OOIOO,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Magazine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Graham Central Station,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Absolute Body Control,
Roxette,
Kevin Saunderson,
Babytalk,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.