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 Costa Rica and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the jazz 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Colin Newman,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
Trumans Water,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barry Ungar,
T.S.O.L.,
the Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Unwound,
The Offenders,
Iggy Pop,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
Television Personalities,
Ultra Naté,
Lakeside,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Chris Corsano,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
Althea and Donna,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultravox,
La Düsseldorf,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barrington Levy,
New Order,
China Crisis,
Funkadelic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flash Fearless,
Nils Olav,
FM Einheit,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Names,
Fatback Band,
Brass Construction,
Ohio Players,
X-101,
The Doors,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.