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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Big Daddy Kane to the punk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Max Romeo,
The Cowsills,
Wings,
Marmalade,
the Human League,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Names,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alphaville,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minutemen,
Morten Harket,
The Index,
Derrick May,
Country Teasers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Royal Trux,
Camouflage,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Niagra,
Lou Reed,
DJ Sneak,
Accadde A,
Patti Smith,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Pharoah Sanders,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
The Martian,
Organ,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moody Blues,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cheater Slicks,
The Black Dice,
Parry Music,
cv313,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.