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 Iraq and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The American Breed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erasure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fugs,
AZ,
The Vogues,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smiths,
David Bowie,
The Human League,
Grauzone,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
K-Klass,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
Mantronix,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Sneak,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smoke,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Stereo Dub,
Barrington Levy,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Roy Ayers,
The Fortunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
Matthew Bourne,
Intrusion,
Man Parrish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Essential Logic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cowsills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Finger,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.