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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cluster to the rock 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agent Orange,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
Camberwell Now,
The Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Angels of Light,
The Golliwogs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
PIL,
The Gun Club,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
ABBA,
The Trojans,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brass Construction,
Swell Maps,
Spoonie Gee,
AZ,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
Tommy Roe,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ludus,
The Divine Comedy,
Hardrive,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Vogues,
Isaac Hayes,
Fugazi,
Sound Behaviour,
Rod Modell,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.