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 Macedonia and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Country Teasers to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sex Pistols,
The Gories,
Easy Going,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nas,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Techniques,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers,
Ultravox,
Neil Young,
The Kinks,
The Knickerbockers,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
the Association,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Alton Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Depeche Mode,
New York Dolls,
kango's stein massive,
Kas Product,
Donald Byrd,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric Dolphy,
Shuggie Otis,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radio Birdman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
the Normal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echospace,
MDC,
Gong,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Funky Four + One,
MC5,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Letta Mbulu,
Marc Almond,
Scientists,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.