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 Bulgaria and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin 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 The Divine Comedy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Max Romeo,
Eli Mardock,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantaleimon,
Mantronix,
Black Sheep,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Neu!,
Arcadia,
John Lydon,
The Martian,
Prince Buster,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
Suicide,
Bill Near,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doors,
New Age Steppers,
The Beau Brummels,
Lakeside,
Scott Walker,
Bill Wells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camberwell Now,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Johnny Clarke,
Nico,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
Magma,
Rites of Spring,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Chris Corsano,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispian St. Peters,
Technova,
The Kinks,
The Pretty Things,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smoke,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Los Fastidios,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Animal Collective,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.