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 Taiwan and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Isaac Hayes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps 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?
Traffic Nightmare,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispian St. Peters,
Judy Mowatt,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
Piero Umiliani,
Yaz,
Audionom,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eli Mardock,
Depeche Mode,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
Tom Boy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Bizarre Inc.,
The United States of America,
Byron Stingily,
Fad Gadget,
Los Fastidios,
Monolake,
Japan,
Vainqueur,
Radio Birdman,
Sister Nancy,
Electric Prunes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Names,
Glambeats Corp.,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
F. McDonald,
Iggy Pop,
Jawbox,
Thompson Twins,
the Human League,
Hoover,
Alphaville,
DJ Style,
Brand Nubian,
The Gap Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Inner City,
Lungfish,
Soulsonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roger Hodgson,
the Association,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.