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 Seychelles and from London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Scott Walker to the grunge 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lightning Bolt,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Average White Band,
Oneida,
Deepchord,
The Star Department,
Mars,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Move,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Brick,
Newcleus,
The Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
Kenny Larkin,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Shoche,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
Chris Corsano,
Yusef Lateef,
The Music Machine,
Derrick May,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
The Real Kids,
AZ,
Quantec,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
June of 44,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Davy DMX,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
Pierre Henry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Prince Buster,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Wyatt,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.