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 Ecuador and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The J.B.'s to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Slave,
Parry Music,
The Smiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Unrelated Segments,
Vladislav Delay,
Pulsallama,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalann,
New Order,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
Shuggie Otis,
MDC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television Personalities,
The Standells,
Little Man,
Gong,
The Mummies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Idris Muhammad,
Drexciya,
AZ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Electric Prunes,
The Invisible,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soulsonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Juan Atkins,
June of 44,
Ten City,
China Crisis,
Can,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stetsasonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doors,
Nik Kershaw,
The Golliwogs,
K-Klass,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.