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 Australia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Busters to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Panda Bear,
The Raincoats,
cv313,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Malaria!,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Franke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeff Mills,
New Order,
Sixth Finger,
Eddi Front,
This Heat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Funkadelic,
Lucky Dragons,
Eli Mardock,
Soul II Soul,
Pylon,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Half Japanese,
The Toasters,
UT,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Y Pants,
Ten City,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Names,
Soulsonic Force,
Minor Threat,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Wire,
Swell Maps,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yazoo,
Graham Central Station,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.