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 Swaziland and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Porter Ricks 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
The Victims,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps,
FM Einheit,
Index,
Khruangbin,
Section 25,
Isaac Hayes,
Morten Harket,
Crooked Eye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Desert Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Das Ding,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Interpol,
Chris & Cosey,
Bill Wells,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Y Pants,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Matthew Halsall,
Harmonia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hardrive,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pop Group,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smoke,
The Tremeloes,
The Sound,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Brick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
The American Breed,
Scrapy,
Grauzone,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
Wally Richardson,
Yaz,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.