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 Serbia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 T.S.O.L. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Techniques,
The Fugs,
the Sonics,
Massinfluence,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Modern Lovers,
The Searchers,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Residents,
Ponytail,
Scratch Acid,
KRS-One,
Sparks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Mummies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Severed Heads,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warren Ellis,
Swans,
John Foxx,
Bobby Womack,
Technova,
New York Dolls,
Fear,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultravox,
PIL,
The American Breed,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Terry,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Faust,
Suburban Knight,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tears for Fears,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Lower 48,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.