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 Vietnam and from Lagos.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Robert Görl to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
Supertramp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lungfish,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
Ornette Coleman,
Sarah Menescal,
DNA,
Bill Wells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
Ultra Naté,
Deakin,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yellowson,
Index,
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
Man Parrish,
Tom Boy,
The Techniques,
The Residents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mad Mike,
New Age Steppers,
Vladislav Delay,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Surgeon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mummies,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
Banda Bassotti,
Whodini,
The Five Americans,
Camberwell Now,
Nik Kershaw,
The Young Rascals,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
Jawbox,
Skaos,
Lou Reed,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantytec,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Electric Prunes,
Technova,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.