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 Mongolia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Neil Young to the punk 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Schoolly D,
Boredoms,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mummies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Symarip,
the Slits,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liliput,
Buzzcocks,
Skaos,
Lower 48,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mark Hollis,
Cluster,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mad Mike,
Bauhaus,
Gong,
Nick Fraelich,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Sheep,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Clear Light,
F. McDonald,
Siglo XX,
Freddie Wadling,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tubeway Army,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick Morgan,
MC5,
the Germs,
Colin Newman,
The Barracudas,
Pere Ubu,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Gastr Del Sol,
Surgeon,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kevin Saunderson,
Icehouse,
AZ,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.