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 Oman and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mandrill to the rap 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Piero Umiliani,
Terry Callier,
The Toasters,
The Star Department,
Harmonia,
The Gories,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Swans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moody Blues,
The Skatalites,
Outsiders,
New Age Steppers,
The United States of America,
The Knickerbockers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alice Coltrane,
John Lydon,
The Cure,
Brick,
Public Enemy,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
Darondo,
Scan 7,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boredoms,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Country Teasers,
Massinfluence,
Eddi Front,
The Barracudas,
T. Rex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacob Miller,
Scientists,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Sherman,
Cheater Slicks,
The Grass Roots,
The Angels of Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Lynne,
Morten Harket,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Buzzcocks,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.