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 Comoros and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Dual Sessions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Magma,
Bush Tetras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Sneak,
Henry Cow,
The Slackers,
Hoover,
Quando Quango,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
Lyres,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
The Music Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
Joy Division,
The Leaves,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
DJ Style,
Rekid,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Albert Ayler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Trojans,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Connie Case,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Ludus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Busters,
Robert Wyatt,
Altered Images,
Scratch Acid,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.