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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Amon Düül to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Angry Samoans,
The Human League,
Ten City,
Mantronix,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music,
Mars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heaven 17,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Negative Approach,
Al Stewart,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Stooges,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
The Wake,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aloha Tigers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Johnny Clarke,
Lightning Bolt,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Halsall,
Cymande,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
R.M.O.,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
The Names,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
Fear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Happenings,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
Skarface,
Fluxion,
Flipper,
Gong,
Qualms,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
Aswad,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Real Kids,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.