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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
This Heat,
Metal Thangz,
Y Pants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lalann,
Black Sheep,
The United States of America,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
T.S.O.L.,
Jandek,
Scientists,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav,
Niagra,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Public Image Ltd.,
H. Thieme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick May,
New Age Steppers,
Stiv Bators,
Supertramp,
One Last Wish,
Archie Shepp,
The Mummies,
Heaven 17,
Adolescents,
Prince Buster,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Byrd,
Grauzone,
Graham Central Station,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
Dead Boys,
L. Decosne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
PIL,
June of 44,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
Scratch Acid,
X-Ray Spex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New York Dolls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.