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 Barbados and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Can to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Lou Reed,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tommy Roe,
The Raincoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Standells,
The Young Rascals,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sound,
Bill Wells,
Boz Scaggs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Rundgren,
Organ,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Stooges,
The Barracudas,
AZ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
In Retrospect,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Pole,
Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Y Pants,
Scan 7,
Ultravox,
U.S. Maple,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Byron Stingily,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ohio Players,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.