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 Congo and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lucky Dragons to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
Bauhaus,
Faust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
F. McDonald,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
Monolake,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Smooth,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Star Department,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
Reuben Wilson,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Residents,
Dead Boys,
Black Flag,
Intrusion,
The Cure,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Scratch Acid,
Wings,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Minor Threat,
the Sonics,
The New Christs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Matthew Halsall,
Janne Schatter,
Little Man,
Smog,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.