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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 H. Thieme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Junior Murvin,
Banda Bassotti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eurythmics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Bananas,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
The Residents,
Monks,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Sneak,
Icehouse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Index,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Scan 7,
Neil Young,
Half Japanese,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Organ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Heaven 17,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
Nirvana,
Audionom,
Wings,
Vladislav Delay,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Golliwogs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eden Ahbez,
The Raincoats,
Excepter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brand Nubian,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Piero Umiliani,
the Soft Cell,
Swans,
Bluetip,
Rakim,
Suburban Knight,
Howard Jones,
Bill Wells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
The Tremeloes,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.