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 Brunei and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the disco 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Marmalade,
Agent Orange,
The J.B.'s,
The Monks,
Derrick May,
Fluxion,
Index,
Joey Negro,
Ronan,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fuzztones,
Kayak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
Lyres,
Underground Resistance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sixth Finger,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
Unrelated Segments,
Pussy Galore,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rosa Yemen,
the Germs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Stereo Dub,
Flipper,
Icehouse,
Cybotron,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Das Ding,
The Five Americans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry's Kids,
Camberwell Now,
The Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Move,
Zapp,
Minor Threat,
Moebius,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.