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 Czech Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott Heron,
Adolescents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Don Cherry,
Magma,
Bang On A Can,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
Rosa Yemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon,
Average White Band,
Patti Smith,
Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Can,
T. Rex,
B.T. Express,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Janne Schatter,
Ronan,
World's Most,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kas Product,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tomorrow,
Franke,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anakelly,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Smog,
Infiniti,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
EPMD,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.