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 Costa Rica and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Groovy Waters to the grunge 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jacques Brel,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Wyatt,
Thompson Twins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Warsaw,
Schoolly D,
PIL,
Faust,
Angry Samoans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
Bush Tetras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Simply Red,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Raincoats,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pantaleimon,
Hasil Adkins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minutemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pagans,
The Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Monolake,
X-102,
The Motions,
Sonic Youth,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Television Personalities,
Rekid,
Main Source,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Country Teasers,
The Walker Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Buzzcocks,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
Johnny Osbourne,
Japan,
Deakin,
Donald Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Associates,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.