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 Bahrain and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 T. Rex to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Whodini,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Infiniti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Sonics,
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
David Axelrod,
Scan 7,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Leaves,
Moss Icon,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
World's Most,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Shoche,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
Section 25,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monochrome Set,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
D'Angelo,
Fad Gadget,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slackers,
Ronan,
Freddie Wadling,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gories,
Mo-Dettes,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Faraquet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fela Kuti,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.