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 Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
JFA,
Glambeats Corp.,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Toasters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dawn Penn,
The Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gichy Dan,
Ituana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oblivians,
Parry Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aloha Tigers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Connie Case,
The Monks,
Gong,
Ohio Players,
The Blackbyrds,
The Buckinghams,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
the Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
Derrick May,
Babytalk,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra,
Niagra,
Newcleus,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Crash Course in Science,
Patti Smith,
Marine Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Supertramp,
Blossom Toes,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.