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 Korea North and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Crime to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
The Litter,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
This Heat,
the Sonics,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Sherman,
The Offenders,
The Doors,
The Gladiators,
The Saints,
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vainqueur,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Style,
The Neon Judgement,
Mad Mike,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
T. Rex,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Marine Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Skaos,
Alice Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cybotron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Funkadelic,
Dawn Penn,
The Beau Brummels,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Near,
Monolake,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultravox,
Godley & Creme,
Rosa Yemen,
Hasil Adkins,
Jawbox,
X-Ray Spex,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.