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 Australia and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 The J.B.'s to the disco 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Underground Resistance,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronnie Foster,
Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Buzzcocks,
Fatback Band,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Nick Fraelich,
the Sonics,
Piero Umiliani,
New Order,
Motorama,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
X-102,
Soul II Soul,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Black Sheep,
Surgeon,
The Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Evens,
Bill Wells,
Talk Talk,
JFA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Charles Mingus,
Lungfish,
The Index,
La Düsseldorf,
Lakeside,
Tears for Fears,
Swell Maps,
Arab on Radar,
E-Dancer,
Severed Heads,
Al Stewart,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joey Negro,
Howard Jones,
Magma,
CMW,
Patti Smith,
Tres Demented,
The Moody Blues,
Scott Walker,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Ken Boothe,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fortunes,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.