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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Man Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Deadbeat,
Mission of Burma,
Black Bananas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Excepter,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
Funky Four + One,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers,
Underground Resistance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dual Sessions,
The Red Krayola,
Sparks,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Dave Gahan,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
Lalann,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Max Romeo,
Josef K,
Shoche,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Five Americans,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül II,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
Soft Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Marvin Gaye,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
The Evens,
Carl Craig,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Babytalk,
Vainqueur,
Delta 5,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.