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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Selecter to the grunge 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
OOIOO,
Roxy Music,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Sneak,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Glenn Branca,
Chris & Cosey,
Harpers Bizarre,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül II,
The Blues Magoos,
X-102,
Intrusion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Can,
Blancmange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Moby Grape,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Chris Corsano,
Radiohead,
Mr. Review,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
Black Sheep,
Masters at Work,
Alice Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Saints,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Sherman,
the Sonics,
Panda Bear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Tremeloes,
Lower 48,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
June Days,
Altered Images,
Bob Dylan,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.