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 Iceland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Evens,
Flipper,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arcadia,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maurizio,
Niagra,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Eli Mardock,
The Happenings,
Infiniti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pulsallama,
Unwound,
Whodini,
Neil Young,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gun Club,
Lower 48,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters,
Yellowson,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Almond,
The Seeds,
Basic Channel,
John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare,
Al Stewart,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sight & Sound,
Mantronix,
Duran Duran,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soul II Soul,
Minutemen,
Amon Düül,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.