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 Ivory Coast and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Scan 7,
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
Mr. Review,
Scientists,
Blancmange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
Infiniti,
Negative Approach,
Maleditus Sound,
X-101,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Khruangbin,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terry Callier,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eli Mardock,
June of 44,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
Japan,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Subhumans,
the Human League,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
Sonic Youth,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter and Kerry,
Sugar Minott,
Janne Schatter,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Searchers,
Aaron Thompson,
Byron Stingily,
48th St. Collective,
Heaven 17,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yazoo,
Colin Newman,
Country Teasers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zapp,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.