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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Rites of Spring,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
Skaos,
Nico,
Icehouse,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
The Selecter,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
E-Dancer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman,
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
Tommy Roe,
David McCallum,
Kenny Larkin,
Fluxion,
Royal Trux,
Barry Ungar,
10cc,
Niagra,
Blossom Toes,
the Human League,
Sound Behaviour,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
Banda Bassotti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DNA,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
The Moody Blues,
Bill Near,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fugs,
The Motions,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
ABC,
Zero Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Neil Young,
Hashim,
Bill Wells,
Terry Callier,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter & Gordon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Modern Lovers,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.