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 Egypt and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
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 sitar 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 The Saints 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Zapp,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Human League,
The Pretty Things,
Quadrant,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ten City,
Sonic Youth,
Henry Cow,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
Camberwell Now,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crash Course in Science,
The Black Dice,
Brass Construction,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
Yusef Lateef,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Leonard Cohen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantytec,
Organ,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Robert Wyatt,
Anakelly,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Japan,
Mandrill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terry Callier,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Basic Channel,
Public Enemy,
Eli Mardock,
Maleditus Sound,
Yazoo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.