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 Peru and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Davy DMX to the electroclash 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Tommy Roe,
X-102,
Gang Starr,
Buzzcocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Patti Smith,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Hill,
Skriet,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Livin' Joy,
David McCallum,
Maleditus Sound,
Amon Düül II,
Arab on Radar,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Skatalites,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vainqueur,
Prince Buster,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fugs,
Ultra Naté,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fire Engines,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
Cecil Taylor,
Mo-Dettes,
the Association,
Bootsy Collins,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
Lou Christie,
Tropical Tobacco,
Charles Mingus,
Clear Light,
Gong,
The Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
ABC,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.