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 Turkmenistan and from New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ronan to the rock 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
The Beau Brummels,
The Blues Magoos,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Adolescents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Misunderstood,
Audionom,
Robert Hood,
World's Most,
The Neon Judgement,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
L. Decosne,
Darondo,
The Fuzztones,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Main Source,
Robert Wyatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Birthday Party,
Siglo XX,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Ten City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pylon,
the Germs,
Donny Hathaway,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ponytail,
Qualms,
Sam Rivers,
Newcleus,
Massinfluence,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thompson Twins,
Soulsonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Kaleidoscope,
Hasil Adkins,
B.T. Express,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.