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 Kazakhstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Pantytec to the jazz 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
Panda Bear,
The Fugs,
Joy Division,
The Mummies,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Darondo,
X-101,
Bill Near,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
Crispy Ambulance,
KRS-One,
Nirvana,
Lalann,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Tubeway Army,
Siglo XX,
Hasil Adkins,
Whodini,
Mantronix,
Swell Maps,
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Bluetip,
Quando Quango,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
Joe Finger,
Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skriet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
The Black Dice,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Marine Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.