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 Sri Lanka and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Section 25 to the disco 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
Eli Mardock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Index,
Cluster,
Goldenarms,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
Sparks,
Amon Düül,
David McCallum,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Maurizio,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cure,
Swell Maps,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun City Girls,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
Fugazi,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nils Olav,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Copeland,
Faraquet,
The Kinks,
The Move,
10cc,
Sugar Minott,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Main Source,
Lakeside,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Clear Light,
Andrew Hill,
Jacques Brel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eurythmics,
Boz Scaggs,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Anakelly,
Fear,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.