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 Denmark and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moss Icon,
B.T. Express,
Royal Trux,
Das Ding,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman,
Joensuu 1685,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
Sällskapet,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed,
Donald Byrd,
Unrelated Segments,
Steve Hackett,
Crispian St. Peters,
Intrusion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Idris Muhammad,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heaven 17,
John Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Malaria!,
UT,
Qualms,
Eric Copeland,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-102,
Brass Construction,
Aural Exciters,
Outsiders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cybotron,
MDC,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monks,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.