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 El Salvador and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Nils Olav to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Barrington Levy,
The Associates,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
The Dirtbombs,
Juan Atkins,
the Slits,
The Vogues,
Icehouse,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
Wasted Youth,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
Pagans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Alton Ellis,
Soul II Soul,
Adolescents,
John Lydon,
Newcleus,
Albert Ayler,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hoover,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Almond,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marine Girls,
Negative Approach,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Hood,
Piero Umiliani,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Wells,
Cal Tjader,
Kerri Chandler,
L. Decosne,
The Sonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers,
Black Pus,
Barry Ungar,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Order,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.