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 Kosovo and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alice Coltrane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tom Boy,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
Henry Cow,
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joensuu 1685,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
Lower 48,
Lalann,
Idris Muhammad,
Mr. Review,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Audionom,
The Evens,
The Tremeloes,
Wasted Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Trojans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Flag,
U.S. Maple,
The Smiths,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Severed Heads,
UT,
Wire,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris Corsano,
John Coltrane,
Magazine,
the Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Bill Near,
Scientists,
The Gap Band,
Dead Boys,
Prince Buster,
Sonic Youth,
Make Up,
Charles Mingus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Fugazi,
Gil Scott Heron,
Laurel Aitken,
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.