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 Croatia and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rock 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
New Order,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minor Threat,
Soulsonic Force,
Deepchord,
Infiniti,
Arthur Verocai,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
Lyres,
Grauzone,
Fugazi,
Scion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
Half Japanese,
Kerri Chandler,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang of Four,
AZ,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
The United States of America,
Swans,
Unwound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Fela Kuti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Green,
Joy Division,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bobby Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Massinfluence,
ABBA,
The Count Five,
Lalann,
Jandek,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fluxion,
Marmalade,
Masters at Work,
Echospace,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pagans,
The Invisible,
The Durutti Column,
Nas,
Rod Modell,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.