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 Swaziland and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Moebius to the electroclash 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Colin Newman,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed,
Stereo Dub,
Franke,
Zero Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Technova,
Crooked Eye,
Juan Atkins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Litter,
The Slits,
The Fuzztones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
JFA,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
Main Source,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Negative Approach,
Roxette,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Cheater Slicks,
Angry Samoans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
Youth Brigade,
the Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Aloha Tigers,
Dennis Brown,
June of 44,
Magazine,
Ponytail,
Andrew Hill,
The Standells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
B.T. Express,
Black Sheep,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Skriet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Von Mondo,
L. Decosne,
Sonic Youth,
Prince Buster,
Erasure,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.