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 the UAE and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rock 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
OOIOO,
Girls At Our Best!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
Al Stewart,
Tres Demented,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Jacques Brel,
Brand Nubian,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Porter Ricks,
The Offenders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rosa Yemen,
Andrew Hill,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül II,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
JFA,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Standells,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Wolf Eyes,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Connie Case,
Bronski Beat,
Suburban Knight,
The Toasters,
These Immortal Souls,
Buzzcocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
B.T. Express,
The Golliwogs,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
Mars,
Gang Green,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Marmalade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Dolphy,
Oneida,
The Cramps,
Cheater Slicks,
FM Einheit,
The Saints,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.