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 Equatorial Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Y Pants to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Birthday Party,
Kayak,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonic Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Newcleus,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Graham Central Station,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Subhumans,
Rites of Spring,
Pierre Henry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
The Sonics,
Scrapy,
the Swans,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
The Tremeloes,
Ronnie Foster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Hashim,
Danielle Patucci,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Pantytec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amon Düül,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Vladislav Delay,
Camouflage,
Skriet,
John Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ken Boothe,
Letta Mbulu,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
Nirvana,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.