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 Kazakhstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ten City to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Model 500,
Average White Band,
The Techniques,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sam Rivers,
Mr. Review,
Q65,
Livin' Joy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Popol Vuh,
Chrome,
Freddie Wadling,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Standells,
Rakim,
Fear,
World's Most,
The Skatalites,
Pole,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Kas Product,
Rapeman,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Oneida,
Little Man,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suicide,
Robert Görl,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
The Gun Club,
Los Fastidios,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spoonie Gee,
Joey Negro,
Todd Rundgren,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blackbyrds,
Alison Limerick,
Tres Demented,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alice Coltrane,
JFA,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.