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 Oman and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Almond to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Davy DMX,
Roger Hodgson,
The Victims,
Sam Rivers,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Iggy Pop,
Magma,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MDC,
AZ,
Tom Boy,
The Stooges,
F. McDonald,
Wings,
Mars,
Alphaville,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blossom Toes,
Theoretical Girls,
Anakelly,
Ronan,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Pagans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Young Marble Giants,
Accadde A,
Smog,
Massinfluence,
Ponytail,
Jandek,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Bar-Kays,
kango's stein massive,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Sandy B,
the Association,
T. Rex,
Q and Not U,
Crooked Eye,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.