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 Turkey and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monolake,
Jeff Mills,
Joe Smooth,
The Five Americans,
Radio Birdman,
Heaven 17,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul II Soul,
Sam Rivers,
Kerri Chandler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Gong,
Stiv Bators,
Stetsasonic,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fluxion,
Talk Talk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joy Division,
Davy DMX,
Popol Vuh,
Archie Shepp,
Television,
Basic Channel,
B.T. Express,
Jeff Lynne,
Chrome,
The Raincoats,
Qualms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Juan Atkins,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Warren Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
Bill Near,
Chris Corsano,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed,
La Düsseldorf,
Q65,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultravox,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.