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 Paraguay and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Aloha Tigers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pulsallama,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television Personalities,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Roxette,
Maurizio,
Livin' Joy,
The Litter,
Quantec,
Interpol,
MC5,
The Gladiators,
Stereo Dub,
Thee Headcoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Sonics,
Siglo XX,
Stetsasonic,
Subhumans,
kango's stein massive,
Faust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Niagra,
Ituana,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
X-101,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Tremeloes,
The Velvet Underground,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eve St. Jones,
Surgeon,
Delta 5,
Joe Finger,
The Golliwogs,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reagan Youth,
Alton Ellis,
Radiohead,
Sixth Finger,
Neu!,
Harry Pussy,
Essential Logic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.