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 Manila.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Pere Ubu to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Siglo XX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ludus,
Average White Band,
R.M.O.,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
PIL,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
Audionom,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
Whodini,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Absolute Body Control,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
The Pretty Things,
Guru Guru,
The New Christs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
LL Cool J,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Tommy Roe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deakin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker,
Magma,
Wally Richardson,
Ituana,
Fluxion,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef,
Radio Birdman,
Altered Images,
Brick,
The Walker Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
Michelle Simonal,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
Rod Modell,
Index,
Monolake,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.