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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Loose Ends,
Albert Ayler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Jandek,
Cybotron,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
The Move,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick Morgan,
Vainqueur,
Drive Like Jehu,
DNA,
Bronski Beat,
Half Japanese,
Max Romeo,
Stiv Bators,
Boogie Down Productions,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Wings,
Nas,
Boredoms,
The Smiths,
Shuggie Otis,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neu!,
The United States of America,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang Starr,
Interpol,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
Popol Vuh,
Traffic Nightmare,
Theoretical Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
The J.B.'s,
K-Klass,
Icehouse,
Chrome,
Jacob Miller,
Mo-Dettes,
Skaos,
Sandy B,
AZ,
The Pop Group,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter and Kerry,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.