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 Andorra and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hardrive to the punk 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
Minutemen,
Angry Samoans,
Quando Quango,
Wolf Eyes,
the Human League,
The Slackers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Busters,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Litter,
Skarface,
Mo-Dettes,
Bad Manners,
Sugar Minott,
Skaos,
The Golliwogs,
JFA,
Au Pairs,
Dual Sessions,
Godley & Creme,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Royal Trux,
The Gories,
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
The Last Poets,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brothers Johnson,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Evens,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rod Modell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
The Move,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.