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 Kazakhstan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Don Cherry,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultra Naté,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barbara Tucker,
Dennis Brown,
ABBA,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unwound,
The Wake,
Tim Buckley,
The Evens,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Erykah Badu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
Suicide,
Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tubeway Army,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Whodini,
Youth Brigade,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
Alton Ellis,
Parry Music,
Khruangbin,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
Roger Hodgson,
Skriet,
Rosa Yemen,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Tears for Fears,
PIL,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.