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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 John Lydon to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
Y Pants,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
Altered Images,
Leonard Cohen,
The Seeds,
Symarip,
La Düsseldorf,
The Slits,
Wally Richardson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
The Leaves,
The Human League,
Avey Tare,
Sandy B,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Almond,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Drexciya,
Scrapy,
Bauhaus,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
The Vogues,
Can,
The Happenings,
ABBA,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sister Nancy,
The Wake,
Inner City,
Pulsallama,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
These Immortal Souls,
Piero Umiliani,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Mills,
Khruangbin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.