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 Indonesia and from London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Johnny Clarke,
Clear Light,
Goldenarms,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Wyatt,
Rapeman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sister Nancy,
The Slackers,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Don Cherry,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
Ice-T,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
ABC,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funky Four + One,
Schoolly D,
Wally Richardson,
Camouflage,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
Bauhaus,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
The Motions,
The Seeds,
Unrelated Segments,
The Martian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marine Girls,
Mad Mike,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Juan Atkins,
Inner City,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.