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 Hungary and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grunge 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Bad Manners,
Reuben Wilson,
Rakim,
The Associates,
Flipper,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Standells,
A Certain Ratio,
The Durutti Column,
The Fugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
Clear Light,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vladislav Delay,
Warren Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
Rapeman,
The Techniques,
Aloha Tigers,
Harry Pussy,
Lungfish,
Todd Rundgren,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sound,
Average White Band,
The Human League,
The Neon Judgement,
The Move,
Josef K,
Sugar Minott,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June of 44,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Walker Brothers,
Maurizio,
Cal Tjader,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
Cymande,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joy Division,
Outsiders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.