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 Samoa and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the grunge 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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
Gang Green,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül II,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monks,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
The Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yazoo,
The Gories,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Youth Brigade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
KRS-One,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
Angry Samoans,
Scrapy,
Chris Corsano,
Spoonie Gee,
Marvin Gaye,
Delta 5,
Hoover,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eden Ahbez,
Average White Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Althea and Donna,
Idris Muhammad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
The Victims,
Public Image Ltd.,
The J.B.'s,
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
Intrusion,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
Agent Orange,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Second Layer,
Reuben Wilson,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.