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 Micronesia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Barracudas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moebius,
This Heat,
The Leaves,
Jawbox,
Henry Cow,
Con Funk Shun,
The Standells,
Rufus Thomas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Warsaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Adolescents,
Deadbeat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Jandek,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cybotron,
Subhumans,
Rapeman,
Groovy Waters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
KRS-One,
Hoover,
Niagra,
The Move,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
L. Decosne,
The Star Department,
Funkadelic,
The Music Machine,
Television Personalities,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bad Manners,
Prince Buster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Yazoo,
Sound Behaviour,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-102,
Television,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
Ken Boothe,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.