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 Russia and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar 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 Jandek to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Nico,
Piero Umiliani,
The Golliwogs,
The Busters,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Severed Heads,
Ohio Players,
EPMD,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Ludus,
Jeff Lynne,
Agent Orange,
Massinfluence,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
The Skatalites,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Model 500,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
The Fall,
Camouflage,
Moss Icon,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sandy B,
Siglo XX,
Pantaleimon,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Sherman,
Neu!,
John Cale,
Radiohead,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crooked Eye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lungfish,
Von Mondo,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Avey Tare,
Bizarre Inc.,
This Heat,
Kayak,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacob Miller,
Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.