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 Honduras and from London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Ice-T to the rap 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Slick Rick,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Andrew Hill,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moss Icon,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Mantronix,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Albert Ayler,
the Swans,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Supertramp,
Von Mondo,
Black Flag,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül II,
Kayak,
The Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiohead,
AZ,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bauhaus,
Absolute Body Control,
Neil Young,
One Last Wish,
Pole,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Todd Rundgren,
Ice-T,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
John Coltrane,
The Remains,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
the Normal,
Harry Pussy,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
The Vogues,
Magma,
Dual Sessions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.