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 Czech Republic and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 The Remains to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection,
The Smiths,
Interpol,
Heaven 17,
New Age Steppers,
Lyres,
Byron Stingily,
Essential Logic,
Ice-T,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cybotron,
Ossler,
The Fall,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
The Gories,
Adolescents,
Half Japanese,
Crime,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
CMW,
Sixth Finger,
Youth Brigade,
Morten Harket,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vladislav Delay,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lalann,
Brass Construction,
Technova,
Pussy Galore,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gabor Szabo,
Echospace,
PIL,
The Grass Roots,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mummies,
R.M.O.,
Arcadia,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
Chris & Cosey,
Hoover,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Inner City,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.