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 Tuvalu and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Age Steppers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Underground Resistance,
T.S.O.L.,
John Holt,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
Alice Coltrane,
Lakeside,
D'Angelo,
LL Cool J,
Janne Schatter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Max Romeo,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
CMW,
Unwound,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
New Age Steppers,
Visage,
Shoche,
Black Moon,
Toni Rubio,
Oneida,
ABBA,
These Immortal Souls,
Chrome,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Bizarre Inc.,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hoover,
Siglo XX,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Offenders,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Albert Ayler,
Roxy Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Michelle Simonal,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
La Düsseldorf,
Amon Düül,
Das Ding,
Interpol,
Warren Ellis,
Pantytec,
Rakim,
The Standells,
The Motions,
Warsaw,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.