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 Kiribati and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a guitar 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 spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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?
Motorama,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Görl,
Outsiders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Motions,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angry Samoans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rapeman,
Albert Ayler,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Maleditus Sound,
Ludus,
Joensuu 1685,
Tubeway Army,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
The Red Krayola,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quantec,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Babytalk,
X-101,
Skaos,
Quadrant,
Joe Finger,
Pantaleimon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Silicon Teens,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gabor Szabo,
Patti Smith,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Mars,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.