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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nation of Ulysses to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
U.S. Maple,
Fugazi,
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Clear Light,
Arab on Radar,
Von Mondo,
Stereo Dub,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alison Limerick,
Godley & Creme,
Aaron Thompson,
OOIOO,
Hot Snakes,
Joy Division,
Eli Mardock,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Real Kids,
Don Cherry,
Funkadelic,
D'Angelo,
The Doors,
K-Klass,
the Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cluster,
Goldenarms,
Slick Rick,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
Hasil Adkins,
Rod Modell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tommy Roe,
Basic Channel,
Das Ding,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
The Selecter,
Mars,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Hill,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.