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 Morocco and from Toronto.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
DJ Style,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Suburban Knight,
Amazonics,
The Gladiators,
Masters at Work,
Henry Cow,
Drexciya,
the Human League,
Guru Guru,
Tubeway Army,
Arcadia,
Sparks,
June Days,
Sarah Menescal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman,
Khruangbin,
Maurizio,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joyce Sims,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Tremeloes,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
Absolute Body Control,
Maleditus Sound,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Metal Thangz,
a-ha,
The Fuzztones,
Aloha Tigers,
Slave,
Eve St. Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Chrome,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Wolf Eyes,
Colin Newman,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Royal Trux,
The Stooges,
The Durutti Column,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.