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 Dominican Republic and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aaron Thompson to the grime 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Country Teasers,
Niagra,
the Normal,
One Last Wish,
Dual Sessions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Max Romeo,
Suicide,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
The Mojo Men,
Suburban Knight,
Symarip,
Cluster,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
Derrick May,
E-Dancer,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Lindisfarne,
Andrew Hill,
Eurythmics,
Technova,
John Holt,
Icehouse,
Arthur Verocai,
Wolf Eyes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Order,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
Matthew Bourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marmalade,
Procol Harum,
Pole,
Neu!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
The Victims,
Little Man,
F. McDonald,
The Gories,
China Crisis,
Shuggie Otis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
Terrestrial Tones,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.