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 Maldives and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
Junior Murvin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tres Demented,
Max Romeo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Youth Brigade,
Patti Smith,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mission of Burma,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Funkadelic,
Symarip,
Ornette Coleman,
Steve Hackett,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
Supertramp,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moody Blues,
The J.B.'s,
Peter and Kerry,
Magazine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange,
Nik Kershaw,
Ituana,
PIL,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Henry Cow,
Soft Machine,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-102,
Marshall Jefferson,
Faust,
Audionom,
The Names,
Shoche,
Hardrive,
Banda Bassotti,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Kerri Chandler,
Roxette,
OOIOO,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.