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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wally Richardson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas,
The Monks,
Franke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deakin,
The Skatalites,
Gabor Szabo,
Idris Muhammad,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonic Youth,
Rod Modell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fatback Band,
The Music Machine,
Urselle,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moody Blues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
the Bar-Kays,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Toasters,
Mars,
Interpol,
DNA,
Altered Images,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare,
Sun City Girls,
Wire,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Theoretical Girls,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
Lakeside,
Guru Guru,
Tommy Roe,
Suicide,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sandy B,
Marvin Gaye,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.