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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Hill to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
the Germs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deakin,
Todd Rundgren,
Aswad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mantronix,
CMW,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Quando Quango,
The Last Poets,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Teasers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Names,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grey Daturas,
KRS-One,
The Gories,
The Techniques,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Intrusion,
Inner City,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
The Trojans,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
10cc,
The Cramps,
Jerry's Kids,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quantec,
Second Layer,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
The Move,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sparks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
a-ha,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.