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 Tuvalu and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Suicide to the disco 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Velvet Underground,
The Searchers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
Quando Quango,
The Skatalites,
Johnny Clarke,
Organ,
Tears for Fears,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
Scrapy,
Magma,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Pierre Henry,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Aaron Thompson,
Young Marble Giants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suburban Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
Hardrive,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fear,
Monks,
Loose Ends,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Danielle Patucci,
Lyres,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
kango's stein massive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Bill Wells,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.