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 Haiti and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pantytec to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Archie Shepp,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
Bob Dylan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stockholm Monsters,
Little Man,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Almond,
Iggy Pop,
Khruangbin,
The Standells,
Lyres,
The Cowsills,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monks,
Yazoo,
Black Bananas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Audionom,
Nirvana,
Yellowson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bill Near,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Laurel Aitken,
The Angels of Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Minnie Riperton,
Essential Logic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
The United States of America,
KRS-One,
Warsaw,
Gong,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Porter Ricks,
Franke,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
Cybotron,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.