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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 Kerri Chandler to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA,
Guru Guru,
Graham Central Station,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terry Callier,
Masters at Work,
Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultravox,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bill Near,
Hasil Adkins,
Q and Not U,
David McCallum,
The Pretty Things,
Q65,
Fela Kuti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Terry,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Bananas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skarface,
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Halsall,
Kayak,
Youth Brigade,
Hardrive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo,
R.M.O.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
L. Decosne,
Black Sheep,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sällskapet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Symarip,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ice-T,
The Buckinghams,
Pet Shop Boys,
Visage,
Maurizio,
Zero Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vainqueur,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.