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 Luxembourg and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
the Association,
Smog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roger Hodgson,
Panda Bear,
Black Moon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker,
Loose Ends,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Copeland,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Massinfluence,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mission of Burma,
Alice Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Charles Mingus,
Roxy Music,
Eddi Front,
The Mojo Men,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Faust,
Bad Manners,
Fad Gadget,
Groovy Waters,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
Oneida,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Scratch Acid,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.