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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 Eddi Front to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Technova,
Barrington Levy,
Quantec,
Mad Mike,
Judy Mowatt,
Urselle,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Sherman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sam Rivers,
The Tremeloes,
Metal Thangz,
Hardrive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blossom Toes,
T.S.O.L.,
Thompson Twins,
Zero Boys,
The Skatalites,
Juan Atkins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Steve Hackett,
the Fania All-Stars,
Smog,
Hashim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gories,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Massinfluence,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bad Manners,
Half Japanese,
DNA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Deakin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Subhumans,
Little Man,
Hot Snakes,
The Names,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.