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 El Salvador and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grey Daturas to the funk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Vladislav Delay,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris Corsano,
Patti Smith,
Procol Harum,
The Evens,
The Gun Club,
Rotary Connection,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacques Brel,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
The Trojans,
Unrelated Segments,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Glambeats Corp.,
Franke,
Sight & Sound,
K-Klass,
Dennis Brown,
The American Breed,
LL Cool J,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
The Durutti Column,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
cv313,
Pylon,
Yellowson,
Bobby Womack,
The Slackers,
the Sonics,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Qualms,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lower 48,
Scan 7,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sparks,
Eddi Front,
EPMD,
Charles Mingus,
Tears for Fears,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.