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 Papua New Guinea and from Portland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 Pulsallama to the dance 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Young Rascals,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Slits,
Eddi Front,
Gong,
Faust,
Sällskapet,
Nas,
DJ Sneak,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
F. McDonald,
Radiohead,
Animal Collective,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
ABBA,
Ultravox,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Y Pants,
Josef K,
Hot Snakes,
Black Bananas,
Charles Mingus,
Slick Rick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Foxx,
Joey Negro,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Duran Duran,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deakin,
Delta 5,
Zapp,
Adolescents,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Silicon Teens,
Sparks,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler,
The Gories,
The Gap Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.