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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Bootsy Collins to the jazz 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dawn Penn,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jandek,
Deakin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
Monks,
X-101,
The Litter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ponytail,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Sarah Menescal,
Boz Scaggs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flipper,
X-Ray Spex,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yellowson,
Average White Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
Talk Talk,
John Foxx,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Glenn Branca,
Sex Pistols,
Spandau Ballet,
China Crisis,
Kevin Saunderson,
These Immortal Souls,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Trumans Water,
T. Rex,
Ronan,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra,
Skriet,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.