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 Mozambique and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rock 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
Faust,
The Human League,
Gang Gang Dance,
Simply Red,
Whodini,
Fluxion,
Charles Mingus,
Icehouse,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
The Raincoats,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Misunderstood,
F. McDonald,
Vladislav Delay,
The Neon Judgement,
Tres Demented,
Joey Negro,
the Germs,
The Star Department,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül II,
David Bowie,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare,
The Modern Lovers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brothers Johnson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
Monolake,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
K-Klass,
Absolute Body Control,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Style,
Sun Ra,
Echospace,
Jacob Miller,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barbara Tucker,
The Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Clear Light,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.