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 Andorra and from Toronto.
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 Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Swell Maps to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Nas,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joe Smooth,
Soul Sonic Force,
T. Rex,
The Monochrome Set,
Eurythmics,
Qualms,
Depeche Mode,
The Cowsills,
Neil Young,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funkadelic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Banda Bassotti,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
Lyres,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Godley & Creme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mandrill,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Half Japanese,
Hardrive,
Stiv Bators,
Nation of Ulysses,
kango's stein massive,
Maurizio,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
Animal Collective,
The American Breed,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
Derrick Morgan,
The Moody Blues,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
MDC,
The Pretty Things,
Judy Mowatt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-101,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.