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 Kenya and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Patti Smith to the punk 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Gong,
Das Ding,
Boredoms,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Swell Maps,
Arcadia,
The Slackers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
Marshall Jefferson,
Loose Ends,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Section 25,
The Buckinghams,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Roger Hodgson,
The Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultra Naté,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
The Monks,
cv313,
Massinfluence,
Eddi Front,
Pet Shop Boys,
Negative Approach,
Main Source,
Mission of Burma,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Görl,
Liliput,
The Stooges,
Nik Kershaw,
Davy DMX,
Pylon,
Eli Mardock,
Newcleus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sugar Minott,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radiohead,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fluxion,
The Skatalites,
The Slits,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.