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 Antigua and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Carl Craig,
Dawn Penn,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Lalann,
The Red Krayola,
Oblivians,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scientists,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bootsy Collins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
Funkadelic,
Nico,
Bobby Byrd,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Sheep,
Fluxion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
Reagan Youth,
Arcadia,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
Delta 5,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Index,
New Age Steppers,
Rites of Spring,
Terry Callier,
Archie Shepp,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Quando Quango,
The Remains,
The Pretty Things,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
Swans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye,
Can,
Desert Stars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Sonic Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Eurythmics,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.