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 Philippines and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Darondo to the funk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
A Flock of Seagulls,
MDC,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arab on Radar,
Glenn Branca,
Rekid,
Audionom,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Visage,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Byrd,
Joe Finger,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Cale,
Lungfish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Animal Collective,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sonic Youth,
Pagans,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Index,
Nirvana,
Alton Ellis,
OOIOO,
Aural Exciters,
The Invisible,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths,
The Pop Group,
Ten City,
Avey Tare,
Fat Boys,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
Newcleus,
Blake Baxter,
The American Breed,
Rufus Thomas,
Tears for Fears,
Peter and Kerry,
Interpol,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Juan Atkins,
June of 44,
Skriet,
Banda Bassotti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.