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 Laos and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mantronix to the funk 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
Althea and Donna,
Skarface,
Pharoah Sanders,
10cc,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rapeman,
The Standells,
Excepter,
ABBA,
The Gories,
Scion,
Alison Limerick,
The Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
The Trojans,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Darondo,
Ultravox,
Gang Starr,
Mantronix,
Don Cherry,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
OOIOO,
The Music Machine,
kango's stein massive,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
Sixth Finger,
Malaria!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Human League,
The American Breed,
The Selecter,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Coltrane,
Black Moon,
This Heat,
Cybotron,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Qualms,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül,
Pagans,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.