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 Mongolia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerri Chandler to the punk 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Angry Samoans,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Junior Murvin,
Japan,
Deepchord,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dead Boys,
Lou Christie,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
The Standells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kayak,
Pet Shop Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pole,
Groovy Waters,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amazonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
The Moody Blues,
Royal Trux,
The Smiths,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skarface,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minor Threat,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Cluster,
Marmalade,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.