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 Kyrgyzstan and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Soft Machine to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Young Marble Giants,
Animal Collective,
John Holt,
AZ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Music Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alison Limerick,
Pussy Galore,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faust,
The Dirtbombs,
Ituana,
Nils Olav,
Qualms,
Minutemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
Das Ding,
Kayak,
Soul II Soul,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Moody Blues,
Aaron Thompson,
Fear,
Negative Approach,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Remains,
Trumans Water,
Ossler,
Robert Hood,
The Leaves,
Mad Mike,
Patti Smith,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
The Trojans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
Subhumans,
The Stooges,
the Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Human League,
Deepchord,
The Monochrome Set,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.