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 Honduras and from Halifax.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Associates to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
The Stooges,
Monolake,
Albert Ayler,
Funkadelic,
Dark Day,
Scion,
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
The Happenings,
Television Personalities,
The Raincoats,
The Leaves,
DJ Sneak,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aloha Tigers,
David Axelrod,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerri Chandler,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
Interpol,
Peter & Gordon,
Skarface,
Barbara Tucker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Flag,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neu!,
The Gladiators,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
The Motions,
Ponytail,
Jeff Lynne,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
The Velvet Underground,
Boredoms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Unrelated Segments,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Hill,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angry Samoans,
This Heat,
Arcadia,
Talk Talk,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.