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 Cuba and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 Gichy Dan 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wasted Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Fraelich,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Anthony Braxton,
Country Teasers,
Sparks,
Severed Heads,
Electric Prunes,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Dennis Brown,
Easy Going,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
T.S.O.L.,
Albert Ayler,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
Soulsonic Force,
Quantec,
Fugazi,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
Interpol,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance,
Godley & Creme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Technova,
The Wake,
Erykah Badu,
Wings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Dark Day,
Quando Quango,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Youth Brigade,
Harmonia,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soft Machine,
The Misunderstood,
Graham Central Station,
The Real Kids,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.