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 Micronesia and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Pussy Galore to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warsaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masters at Work,
The Mummies,
UT,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Velvet Underground,
Tropical Tobacco,
DJ Sneak,
The Toasters,
The Martian,
The Blues Magoos,
Yusef Lateef,
Eddi Front,
Fugazi,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Mills,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang of Four,
Boz Scaggs,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
Sugar Minott,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Kayak,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Nirvana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Ronnie Foster,
Moebius,
Wally Richardson,
The Associates,
Eden Ahbez,
B.T. Express,
Eli Mardock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Malaria!,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
Nik Kershaw,
John Holt,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.