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 Venezuela and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 DJ Style 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
the Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Wire,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reagan Youth,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers,
Charles Mingus,
Smog,
Parry Music,
DJ Style,
Agitation Free,
Negative Approach,
The Motions,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Tres Demented,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Techniques,
Gong,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
Crime,
Graham Central Station,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Don Cherry,
Oneida,
Todd Rundgren,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Golliwogs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Model 500,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
Livin' Joy,
One Last Wish,
Sonic Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cowsills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül,
Jerry's Kids,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.