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 Gambia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nirvana to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Simply Red,
The Tremeloes,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sound Behaviour,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Quantec,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Cecil Taylor,
Camberwell Now,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Names,
Toni Rubio,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun City Girls,
Don Cherry,
Funkadelic,
Susan Cadogan,
Magazine,
Con Funk Shun,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ornette Coleman,
Josef K,
Brass Construction,
Eric Copeland,
FM Einheit,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
Fela Kuti,
The Cowsills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agent Orange,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
PIL,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
Motorama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.