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 Malawi and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Girls At Our Best! to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
The Modern Lovers,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
The Stooges,
T.S.O.L.,
JFA,
The Five Americans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Animal Collective,
The Martian,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Skriet,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neil Young,
The Move,
Gang Gang Dance,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
U.S. Maple,
F. McDonald,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
Symarip,
The Standells,
Darondo,
Marmalade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
The Star Department,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Arab on Radar,
Tomorrow,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
Amon Düül,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ohio Players,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Zapp,
Josef K,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.