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 Liechtenstein and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Minny Pops,
Todd Terry,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bauhaus,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Althea and Donna,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
Man Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Bootsy Collins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Green,
Circle Jerks,
John Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jeru the Damaja,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Scan 7,
the Association,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monochrome Set,
Rekid,
Thee Headcoats,
The Evens,
Sandy B,
Gang Gang Dance,
Royal Trux,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Christie,
Gabor Szabo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sight & Sound,
Roxette,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Rites of Spring,
Leonard Cohen,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
Make Up,
John Holt,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Spoonie Gee,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.