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 Romania and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Sun Ra to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
The Leaves,
Andrew Hill,
Negative Approach,
Leonard Cohen,
The New Christs,
kango's stein massive,
Alison Limerick,
The Birthday Party,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
JFA,
Bobby Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camberwell Now,
Second Layer,
The Blues Magoos,
Yellowson,
Carl Craig,
The Toasters,
Parry Music,
Jandek,
Albert Ayler,
Tom Boy,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Schoolly D,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Seeds,
Organ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
The Index,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.