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 Turkey and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Idris Muhammad to the grunge 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ken Boothe,
The Star Department,
Desert Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultra Naté,
Siglo XX,
LL Cool J,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
David Axelrod,
David Bowie,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
Whodini,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ornette Coleman,
Bronski Beat,
Stereo Dub,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
The Five Americans,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Mad Mike,
David McCallum,
Colin Newman,
Neu!,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
Zero Boys,
The Gun Club,
The J.B.'s,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Cell,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.