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 Latvia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Germs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Blancmange,
La Düsseldorf,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Angry Samoans,
These Immortal Souls,
Marvin Gaye,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Con Funk Shun,
Liliput,
Donald Byrd,
The Invisible,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Main Source,
Unrelated Segments,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
The Residents,
The Busters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Smog,
Gang of Four,
the Germs,
Agitation Free,
Harmonia,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fuzztones,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
Rotary Connection,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
Reuben Wilson,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Duran Duran,
Aloha Tigers,
Rosa Yemen,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.