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 Syria and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cure to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Gong,
Banda Bassotti,
EPMD,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Visage,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brass Construction,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Skatalites,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Misunderstood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funkadelic,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
the Normal,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Görl,
The Wake,
John Cale,
X-101,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Robert Wyatt,
The Human League,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Eric Dolphy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Au Pairs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cramps,
Toni Rubio,
Blossom Toes,
Lalann,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Aaron Thompson,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
Boz Scaggs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ice-T,
New Order,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.