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 Marshall Islands and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slave to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
Lightning Bolt,
Fad Gadget,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
Moebius,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultravox,
La Düsseldorf,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Malaria!,
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Skaos,
World's Most,
Man Parrish,
Grey Daturas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lakeside,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
Yaz,
K-Klass,
Bauhaus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Unrelated Segments,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.