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 Albania and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Man Parrish to the funk 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Gang Green,
The Gap Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yazoo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
Henry Cow,
LL Cool J,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sound,
Robert Görl,
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Fela Kuti,
The Gories,
Rufus Thomas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dennis Brown,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marine Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mark Hollis,
The Slackers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-101,
Second Layer,
Anthony Braxton,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Victims,
Sun City Girls,
Television,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
The Raincoats,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.