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 Burkina and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Niagra to the electroclash 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Normal,
Accadde A,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mandrill,
Lyres,
Barry Ungar,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Patti Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Iggy Pop,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Smoke,
Goldenarms,
Kas Product,
Lower 48,
The Neon Judgement,
June of 44,
Archie Shepp,
Chris & Cosey,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiopuhelimet,
Basic Channel,
Unrelated Segments,
the Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Banda Bassotti,
Sarah Menescal,
Intrusion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
Wings,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Icehouse,
Procol Harum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
the Sonics,
Ponytail,
Rosa Yemen,
Fear,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
The Cure,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Skriet,
Bronski Beat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.