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 Mozambique and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Avey Tare to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Nils Olav,
Liliput,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donald Byrd,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Josef K,
Joe Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
The Golliwogs,
Joyce Sims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tubeway Army,
Juan Atkins,
Camberwell Now,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funky Four + One,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
Aswad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alison Limerick,
Sällskapet,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Mills,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack,
Alton Ellis,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Anthony Braxton,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Outsiders,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Sheep,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Lower 48,
Ice-T,
New York Dolls,
Arab on Radar,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.