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 Kazakhstan and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 PIL to the dance 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Womack,
Make Up,
Skriet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pierre Henry,
The Fuzztones,
Black Pus,
The Remains,
Avey Tare,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Hood,
Schoolly D,
The New Christs,
World's Most,
Ossler,
Rapeman,
cv313,
Lower 48,
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
Can,
Jeff Mills,
Fugazi,
R.M.O.,
The Evens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Albert Ayler,
Liliput,
Ultra Naté,
Jeff Lynne,
Whodini,
Slave,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
Sarah Menescal,
Stiv Bators,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Pylon,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Agitation Free,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rod Modell,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wire,
Skaos,
Easy Going,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Birthday Party,
Negative Approach,
Minutemen,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.