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 Egypt and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Nico to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Accadde A,
Donny Hathaway,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster,
Pulsallama,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Erykah Badu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Infiniti,
Gichy Dan,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
Kaleidoscope,
The Walker Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Average White Band,
Das Ding,
Morten Harket,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Byrd,
Roger Hodgson,
Kayak,
Main Source,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick Morgan,
Nico,
The Black Dice,
Panda Bear,
Monks,
OOIOO,
Skaos,
Bluetip,
The Music Machine,
Make Up,
Tom Boy,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
Arthur Verocai,
In Retrospect,
Kerri Chandler,
June of 44,
Simply Red,
Suicide,
The Real Kids,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Radio Birdman,
Iggy Pop,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.