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 Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Order,
Piero Umiliani,
Pagans,
The Zeros,
Hot Snakes,
Jandek,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Johnny Osbourne,
FM Einheit,
Harmonia,
Nirvana,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
Agitation Free,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
Pierre Henry,
Underground Resistance,
Organ,
The Gun Club,
Wings,
Reuben Wilson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Godley & Creme,
Shuggie Otis,
Deepchord,
Skaos,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Talk Talk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Half Japanese,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angry Samoans,
Hashim,
Lightning Bolt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Minnie Riperton,
Mandrill,
Drexciya,
The Cure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
La Düsseldorf,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.