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 Dominica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Charles Mingus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters 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?
Monolake,
Sixth Finger,
Suicide,
The Divine Comedy,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Junior Murvin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minor Threat,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
The Grass Roots,
Peter and Kerry,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Make Up,
Bronski Beat,
Joey Negro,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Smooth,
Eurythmics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Albert Ayler,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sister Nancy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Motions,
The Moleskins,
Saccharine Trust,
Hashim,
Boredoms,
the Swans,
X-101,
Qualms,
Nik Kershaw,
Grauzone,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Newcleus,
Country Teasers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Joensuu 1685,
The Searchers,
Gang Green,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
AZ,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Tom Boy,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.