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 Swaziland and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the funk 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispy Ambulance,
Japan,
Neu!,
Hasil Adkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thompson Twins,
Fatback Band,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
Ludus,
The Victims,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sparks,
The Litter,
Gang Green,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Almond,
Excepter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Count Five,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
Moebius,
Magazine,
Blake Baxter,
Nick Fraelich,
Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
Motorama,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sugar Minott,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris Corsano,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sixth Finger,
Brick,
the Association,
Babytalk,
Second Layer,
Interpol,
Henry Cow,
L. Decosne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.