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 Eritrea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Cramps,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
Shoche,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June Days,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oneida,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Starr,
MC5,
The Misunderstood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
The Smoke,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
La Düsseldorf,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
Severed Heads,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
The Mummies,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
Quadrant,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Black Pus,
Infiniti,
Chris & Cosey,
Chris Corsano,
Pere Ubu,
Grauzone,
Average White Band,
Nas,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.