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 Cairo.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
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 arpeggiator 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 Parry Music to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
The Busters,
Fad Gadget,
Au Pairs,
The Monochrome Set,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
World's Most,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scion,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
The Cure,
Slave,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Radio Birdman,
D'Angelo,
Tubeway Army,
Crash Course in Science,
X-102,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronnie Foster,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Black Sheep,
The Gories,
Leonard Cohen,
Siglo XX,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Echospace,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fela Kuti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
K-Klass,
Charles Mingus,
Al Stewart,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pulsallama,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Copeland,
Harpers Bizarre,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.