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 Afghanistan 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sound Behaviour to the crunk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
Excepter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rapeman,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
The Count Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
Procol Harum,
Crime,
Vladislav Delay,
Pulsallama,
Scientists,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers,
JFA,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Television,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
Funky Four + One,
Yellowson,
H. Thieme,
The Index,
Delon & Dalcan,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
The Gladiators,
Pantaleimon,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
Icehouse,
World's Most,
Wolf Eyes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pop Group,
Negative Approach,
Wings,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Radio Birdman,
Ten City,
The Birthday Party,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.