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 Monaco and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the electroclash 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
the Bar-Kays,
Susan Cadogan,
Angry Samoans,
Infiniti,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
Goldenarms,
Pantytec,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
Stetsasonic,
Ohio Players,
The Raincoats,
Moby Grape,
Eli Mardock,
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
Audionom,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Derrick May,
Glenn Branca,
Section 25,
Bizarre Inc.,
Agent Orange,
Anthony Braxton,
The Misunderstood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yellowson,
Lungfish,
Zapp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Robert Wyatt,
Bootsy Collins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultimate Spinach,
Clear Light,
The Slackers,
The Cowsills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.