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 Nicaragua and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Scrapy,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Near,
cv313,
Maleditus Sound,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
X-Ray Spex,
Excepter,
L. Decosne,
The Happenings,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pet Shop Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Vainqueur,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Teasers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalann,
Ludus,
Camouflage,
Cluster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Matthew Bourne,
The Residents,
Panda Bear,
Ronan,
Zero Boys,
The Searchers,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers,
Grey Daturas,
Thee Headcoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Niagra,
Oblivians,
Todd Rundgren,
Malaria!,
Albert Ayler,
Minutemen,
Camberwell Now,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minnie Riperton,
Eddi Front,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
The Black Dice,
Technova,
Black Moon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
AZ,
Negative Approach,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.