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 Nicaragua and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Association,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nas,
DJ Style,
Brick,
Avey Tare,
The Angels of Light,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
The Divine Comedy,
Quando Quango,
Idris Muhammad,
Moby Grape,
Liliput,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
David Axelrod,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Arthur Verocai,
Nirvana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Colin Newman,
Michelle Simonal,
Los Fastidios,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
The Searchers,
Negative Approach,
Mars,
Sun City Girls,
David McCallum,
Deakin,
Eric Copeland,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
Flipper,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
Sandy B,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Starr,
Minny Pops,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.