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 Indonesia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the jazz 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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Womack,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric Copeland,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moss Icon,
Niagra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Siglo XX,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Near,
The Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
Wire,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Donald Byrd,
Kenny Larkin,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
Ludus,
Desert Stars,
Pantytec,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Stooges,
Section 25,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
Bobby Sherman,
Franke,
The Index,
OOIOO,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ohio Players,
These Immortal Souls,
Groovy Waters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Nico,
Von Mondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Michelle Simonal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim,
Moebius,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.