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 Taiwan and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Country Teasers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Gang Green,
Fad Gadget,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Motorama,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
Trumans Water,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
The Busters,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
The Move,
Loose Ends,
June of 44,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lebanon Hanover,
OOIOO,
Los Fastidios,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Alton Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Remains,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Procol Harum,
Michelle Simonal,
The Young Rascals,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Lyres,
Black Bananas,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
Joyce Sims,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
China Crisis,
Chris Corsano,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
Youth Brigade,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gories,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.