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 Uganda and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mr. Review to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
The Last Poets,
Minutemen,
the Association,
Black Pus,
The Kinks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Audionom,
The Misunderstood,
Half Japanese,
cv313,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anthony Braxton,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Almond,
The Real Kids,
Black Flag,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Porter Ricks,
Tres Demented,
Yusef Lateef,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
Alice Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slackers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swell Maps,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Davy DMX,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
The Sonics,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.