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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Don Cherry to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Lightning Bolt,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Wells,
Eden Ahbez,
Swell Maps,
Cymande,
Sparks,
Popol Vuh,
Ronan,
The Litter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
New York Dolls,
Skarface,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wire,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Stiv Bators,
Nick Fraelich,
Big Daddy Kane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fluxion,
Gichy Dan,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Khruangbin,
The Pretty Things,
Joe Finger,
Spoonie Gee,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Panda Bear,
Outsiders,
Wasted Youth,
Bob Dylan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agitation Free,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Copeland,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rod Modell,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Adolescents,
The Happenings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Thee Headcoats,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.