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 Papua New Guinea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
Robert Görl,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grauzone,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Godley & Creme,
The Selecter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Eating Sloth,
The New Christs,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
The Sonics,
Slick Rick,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blues Magoos,
Reuben Wilson,
Television Personalities,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Robert Hood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Can,
Magma,
The Monks,
Fugazi,
Crash Course in Science,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
The Gap Band,
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fuzztones,
the Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Icehouse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fear,
Peter and Kerry,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slits,
The Wake,
Spoonie Gee,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric Copeland,
Moebius,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.