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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pantaleimon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Organ,
The Wake,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
Amon Düül,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Chrome,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skriet,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
Ronan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Slick Rick,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Dark Day,
New Order,
Isaac Hayes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Half Japanese,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kaleidoscope,
Shuggie Otis,
H. Thieme,
Y Pants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cecil Taylor,
Masters at Work,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare,
Bizarre Inc.,
Reagan Youth,
Zero Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
The Birthday Party,
Kenny Larkin,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
the Swans,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.