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 Korea South and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fatback Band to the grunge 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
the Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Michelle Simonal,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
Rod Modell,
Peter & Gordon,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Interpol,
Joy Division,
Wings,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mars,
Altered Images,
Stiv Bators,
Audionom,
Al Stewart,
Don Cherry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ituana,
Jawbox,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masters at Work,
Delta 5,
Section 25,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Idris Muhammad,
the Normal,
Leonard Cohen,
The Litter,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Bluetip,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lungfish,
Qualms,
Massinfluence,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Real Kids,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
Carl Craig,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.