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 Guyana and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ituana,
Ten City,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sonics,
The Fortunes,
AZ,
The Slackers,
Magazine,
Junior Murvin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Slave,
Quando Quango,
John Coltrane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Brass Construction,
H. Thieme,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Minny Pops,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra,
Thompson Twins,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
Fear,
Pierre Henry,
Idris Muhammad,
Bill Wells,
The Seeds,
Warsaw,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
the Association,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Howard Jones,
The Cure,
Khruangbin,
Matthew Halsall,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
Yaz,
The Sound,
K-Klass,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.