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 Micronesia and from Toronto.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Remains to the funk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eden Ahbez,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arthur Verocai,
Surgeon,
Joensuu 1685,
Deakin,
Oneida,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skarface,
Gang Starr,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pylon,
Black Flag,
Freddie Wadling,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Index,
Minny Pops,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Davy DMX,
Donald Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Terry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultravox,
Nirvana,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Nik Kershaw,
Soulsonic Force,
China Crisis,
Newcleus,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.