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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Glenn Branca to the funk 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Warsaw,
Theoretical Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Pus,
The Zeros,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Pylon,
Main Source,
Mission of Burma,
Barry Ungar,
Ponytail,
The Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
Los Fastidios,
Amon Düül,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Doors,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
Mandrill,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
Public Enemy,
Surgeon,
FM Einheit,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Magazine,
Danielle Patucci,
Inner City,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
The Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
MDC,
The Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Wyatt,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Al Stewart,
Mars,
Agitation Free,
The Toasters,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.