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 Costa Rica and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb 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 PIL to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rosa Yemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
KRS-One,
Organ,
Amazonics,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
kango's stein massive,
Chris Corsano,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sonic Youth,
The Music Machine,
Pantytec,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tim Buckley,
John Foxx,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cymande,
The Saints,
Black Bananas,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Ornette Coleman,
Amon Düül,
LL Cool J,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
Alice Coltrane,
This Heat,
Fluxion,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
A Certain Ratio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MDC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Davy DMX,
The Gories,
Connie Case,
James White and The Blacks,
Inner City,
Soft Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.