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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Judy Mowatt to the rock 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Urselle,
Isaac Hayes,
James White and The Blacks,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABC,
OOIOO,
The Zeros,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra,
Nirvana,
the Fania All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Little Man,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
Massinfluence,
MDC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
Grauzone,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Parrish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Eddi Front,
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eden Ahbez,
Brick,
Chris Corsano,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Vainqueur,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suburban Knight,
K-Klass,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Crash Course in Science,
Wings,
Crime,
Aswad,
The Remains,
Bush Tetras,
Charles Mingus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dave Gahan,
Bill Near,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.