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 Kazakhstan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Fad Gadget to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yaz,
Maleditus Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
Ultra Naté,
Anakelly,
Jeff Mills,
Sun City Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cal Tjader,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
Hashim,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones,
The Birthday Party,
Urselle,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
Quando Quango,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
The Modern Lovers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Laurel Aitken,
The Last Poets,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Dennis Brown,
Hot Snakes,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Busters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
AZ,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Fraelich,
Bill Near,
Barry Ungar,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
Don Cherry,
John Lydon,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.