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 Azerbaijan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Metal Thangz to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Don Cherry,
Roxy Music,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
The Buckinghams,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Beau Brummels,
Bauhaus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
Bluetip,
China Crisis,
Aaron Thompson,
X-102,
Tres Demented,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Royal Trux,
Lungfish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Wyatt,
Japan,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
Fugazi,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
The Shadows of Knight,
Organ,
Bootsy Collins,
Janne Schatter,
Dual Sessions,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Residents,
Warsaw,
The Move,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.