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 Taiwan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Toni Rubio,
Siglo XX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
Pole,
In Retrospect,
Ludus,
Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
Wolf Eyes,
The Victims,
Harmonia,
K-Klass,
Bush Tetras,
June of 44,
Jandek,
Tommy Roe,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Birthday Party,
Model 500,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Duran Duran,
The Black Dice,
Grey Daturas,
ABC,
Gong,
Young Marble Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Godley & Creme,
The Raincoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
Accadde A,
Joy Division,
Fugazi,
Henry Cow,
Stiv Bators,
Alphaville,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Boz Scaggs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bauhaus,
Arcadia,
Andrew Hill,
Chris & Cosey,
Janne Schatter,
Malaria!,
R.M.O.,
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.