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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Prince Buster to the dance 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
Vladislav Delay,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Knickerbockers,
Metal Thangz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joyce Sims,
kango's stein massive,
Brothers Johnson,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liliput,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Freddie Wadling,
Terrestrial Tones,
The J.B.'s,
Piero Umiliani,
FM Einheit,
E-Dancer,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lightning Bolt,
PIL,
Minutemen,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
The Raincoats,
The Smoke,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Peter and Kerry,
Crooked Eye,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
Reagan Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Saints,
Interpol,
Mo-Dettes,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.