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 Azerbaijan and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ituana to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Darondo,
DJ Style,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smiths,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Oneida,
China Crisis,
The Real Kids,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nik Kershaw,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Smooth,
Marine Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-101,
Excepter,
The Pretty Things,
Slave,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Bowie,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Surgeon,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies,
Lungfish,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
Pierre Henry,
The Fortunes,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scrapy,
Audionom,
T. Rex,
Nils Olav,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Crooked Eye,
New Age Steppers,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.