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 Nepal and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ornette Coleman 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faraquet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dirtbombs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Buckinghams,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kas Product,
The Searchers,
the Bar-Kays,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chrome,
Rekid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Hill,
Pere Ubu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yaz,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Raincoats,
Das Ding,
Audionom,
Royal Trux,
Gang Starr,
Iggy Pop,
the Sonics,
The Selecter,
Cybotron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eddi Front,
Marvin Gaye,
Rod Modell,
Alton Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Ultravox,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Yazoo,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gun Club,
The Pretty Things,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.