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 Andorra 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
Jimmy McGriff,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Hashim,
Terry Callier,
Warren Ellis,
Swans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
The Buckinghams,
Sandy B,
Motorama,
EPMD,
The Velvet Underground,
Model 500,
Cheater Slicks,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Joey Negro,
The United States of America,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
Josef K,
Loose Ends,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
Subhumans,
Rotary Connection,
a-ha,
Los Fastidios,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
Icehouse,
Slave,
Television,
Maurizio,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.