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 Bolivia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the punk 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Porter Ricks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Wake,
OOIOO,
The Skatalites,
Tropical Tobacco,
Technova,
Grauzone,
The Fall,
Skaos,
a-ha,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James White and The Blacks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Letta Mbulu,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David Axelrod,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
Lucky Dragons,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Style,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Flesh Eaters,
cv313,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blackbyrds,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Procol Harum,
Hashim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Panda Bear,
Todd Terry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
Byron Stingily,
The Moleskins,
Youth Brigade,
Easy Going,
the Normal,
Dual Sessions,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.