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 Sweden and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zero Boys,
Liliput,
Ronnie Foster,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gichy Dan,
Barbara Tucker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joe Finger,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun City Girls,
Henry Cow,
Aloha Tigers,
Lower 48,
Janne Schatter,
Ultravox,
Cal Tjader,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
Judy Mowatt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Q65,
Scott Walker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare,
Darondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Infiniti,
Parry Music,
Circle Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Green,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
The Real Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Malaria!,
Animal Collective,
Chris Corsano,
Stetsasonic,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.