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 Liechtenstein and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Yusef Lateef to the rock 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Amon Düül,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Wyatt,
Schoolly D,
Hashim,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Fugazi,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Monks,
The United States of America,
Eli Mardock,
Los Fastidios,
Albert Ayler,
Goldenarms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Duran Duran,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Essential Logic,
Arthur Verocai,
The Searchers,
Godley & Creme,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Lungfish,
Dennis Brown,
Warsaw,
Robert Hood,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Anakelly,
Rakim,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Joy Division,
Bobby Womack,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Doors,
Lyres,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Cameo,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.