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 Togo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar 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 Amazonics to the rock 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Ludus,
John Cale,
Yaz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Q and Not U,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sandy B,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
The Names,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Stiv Bators,
Jawbox,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant,
Joyce Sims,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
OOIOO,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Spoonie Gee,
Section 25,
Cluster,
The Grass Roots,
MC5,
The Sound,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Audionom,
Sarah Menescal,
Shuggie Otis,
Drexciya,
Circle Jerks,
Siglo XX,
Isaac Hayes,
Johnny Clarke,
UT,
Metal Thangz,
Icehouse,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones,
Funkadelic,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.