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 Saudi Arabia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Black Moon to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Mission of Burma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Matthew Halsall,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
The Human League,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül II,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
Schoolly D,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
The Misunderstood,
Fatback Band,
Gong,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Aswad,
The Martian,
The Fortunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Slits,
Qualms,
Terry Callier,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare,
Aural Exciters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alphaville,
Zapp,
Lindisfarne,
Ultimate Spinach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Clarke,
Minutemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
10cc,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.