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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 crunk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Dave Gahan,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
Whodini,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
The Selecter,
Accadde A,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
Radiohead,
Circle Jerks,
Yellowson,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roger Hodgson,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moleskins,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Dual Sessions,
Joyce Sims,
Shoche,
EPMD,
Hashim,
Surgeon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
Model 500,
Sixth Finger,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
D'Angelo,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.