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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eden Ahbez to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
MC5,
Easy Going,
Flipper,
Don Cherry,
Das Ding,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronan,
Public Enemy,
June of 44,
Visage,
The Names,
Matthew Bourne,
The Barracudas,
Ituana,
T.S.O.L.,
Scientists,
Nirvana,
The Residents,
The Count Five,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Amon Düül,
R.M.O.,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Derrick Morgan,
The Modern Lovers,
Suicide,
Swell Maps,
Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Electric Prunes,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marcia Griffiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nas,
Scott Walker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Christie,
Al Stewart,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
the Normal,
The Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gladiators,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.