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 Fiji and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The American Breed to the rap 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
New York Dolls,
Wally Richardson,
Groovy Waters,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Magazine,
China Crisis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Enemy,
Michelle Simonal,
Yusef Lateef,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Theoretical Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Jandek,
Laurel Aitken,
The Kinks,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Reagan Youth,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
The Count Five,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang of Four,
Robert Hood,
Hardrive,
PIL,
John Holt,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Buzzcocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Sarah Menescal,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
Susan Cadogan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Livin' Joy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Almond,
Echospace,
Malaria!,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.