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 Mauritius and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Henry Cow,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
Chris Corsano,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aaron Thompson,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Gabor Szabo,
Q and Not U,
Qualms,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marvin Gaye,
Donald Byrd,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
Crooked Eye,
Organ,
Black Flag,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spoonie Gee,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Seeds,
Amon Düül,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Erykah Badu,
Blossom Toes,
Sugar Minott,
Neu!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Parry Music,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Aswad,
Make Up,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Associates,
Kenny Larkin,
The New Christs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
Japan,
The Modern Lovers,
Joensuu 1685,
Ice-T,
Second Layer,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.