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 Denmark and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Swans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
The Smoke,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
KRS-One,
Los Fastidios,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalo Schifrin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mad Mike,
Sparks,
Lalann,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scratch Acid,
The Slackers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Pretty Things,
The Doors,
Funky Four + One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cowsills,
Inner City,
The Busters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Duran Duran,
The American Breed,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
In Retrospect,
Sarah Menescal,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lungfish,
Lakeside,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Black Dice,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.