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 Tunisia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hasil Adkins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Mary Jane Girls,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
Flipper,
Sandy B,
Hardrive,
Inner City,
Dennis Brown,
Livin' Joy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Black Flag,
New Age Steppers,
Terry Callier,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nirvana,
Simply Red,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
Crime,
the Swans,
Stereo Dub,
The Litter,
Tres Demented,
The Young Rascals,
Ituana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
Tubeway Army,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
Tommy Roe,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Toasters,
Cal Tjader,
The Techniques,
DNA,
Judy Mowatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Patti Smith,
Animal Collective,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.