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 Tajikistan and from London.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Happenings to the rap 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Sam Rivers,
the Fania All-Stars,
D'Angelo,
Sugar Minott,
Slick Rick,
Freddie Wadling,
The Techniques,
The Barracudas,
The Kinks,
Stereo Dub,
Sixth Finger,
Audionom,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker,
Ituana,
Shoche,
Mo-Dettes,
Letta Mbulu,
Smog,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
Bobby Byrd,
Cameo,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Bar-Kays,
Piero Umiliani,
Amon Düül,
The New Christs,
Ohio Players,
The Searchers,
Johnny Clarke,
Deakin,
The Fire Engines,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Selecter,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
E-Dancer,
Archie Shepp,
Rapeman,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Minny Pops,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arcadia,
Howard Jones,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.