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 Mozambique and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Pantytec to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Iggy Pop,
Roxette,
The Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
Banda Bassotti,
New Order,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
The Last Poets,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Slits,
Inner City,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cymande,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mars,
Ronnie Foster,
Maleditus Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Happenings,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Swans,
Schoolly D,
The Move,
Aural Exciters,
48th St. Collective,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül,
Average White Band,
Marc Almond,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül II,
UT,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Womack,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quando Quango,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
Ken Boothe,
Brothers Johnson,
Wire,
CMW,
Jandek,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.