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 Spain and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman,
Eric Dolphy,
Technova,
Little Man,
Robert Wyatt,
World's Most,
Kenny Larkin,
Dark Day,
Japan,
Hoover,
Banda Bassotti,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Joensuu 1685,
KRS-One,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy Collins,
the Human League,
Charles Mingus,
Gang of Four,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
Oneida,
The Barracudas,
The Cure,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones,
Spandau Ballet,
Eden Ahbez,
Panda Bear,
Minny Pops,
Tom Boy,
Barry Ungar,
Make Up,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Model 500,
The Remains,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Rufus Thomas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Warren Ellis,
Trumans Water,
Mad Mike,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Smiths,
Joyce Sims,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.