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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mark Hollis to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter & Gordon,
Anakelly,
Mission of Burma,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
Sam Rivers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Beau Brummels,
Ossler,
Neil Young,
Scratch Acid,
The Barracudas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Symarip,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
Malaria!,
Sight & Sound,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radiohead,
the Human League,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marvin Gaye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nik Kershaw,
Warren Ellis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Green,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mojo Men,
Masters at Work,
Silicon Teens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pretty Things,
Suburban Knight,
Shoche,
Donny Hathaway,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.