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 St Lucia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
Barry Ungar,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
Massinfluence,
Gang Green,
The Moody Blues,
DNA,
Erasure,
Barbara Tucker,
Lalann,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hasil Adkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
Junior Murvin,
Wasted Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
L. Decosne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lucky Dragons,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gun Club,
Nils Olav,
The Music Machine,
K-Klass,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Faust,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Peter and Kerry,
Interpol,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T.S.O.L.,
48th St. Collective,
Sugar Minott,
New York Dolls,
Sam Rivers,
The J.B.'s,
The Mummies,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dark Day,
Eric Copeland,
Essential Logic,
Gabor Szabo,
Terry Callier,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.