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 Nauru and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Angry Samoans to the dance 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Maleditus Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris Corsano,
Jawbox,
Bang On A Can,
Soul II Soul,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pylon,
Rod Modell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rites of Spring,
Byron Stingily,
The Trojans,
Man Parrish,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Wells,
Yellowson,
Ossler,
Tommy Roe,
Skriet,
Eli Mardock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oneida,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
Graham Central Station,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mojo Men,
Mantronix,
Lower 48,
Janne Schatter,
Quantec,
Bootsy Collins,
John Lydon,
Juan Atkins,
the Swans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Liliput,
Flipper,
Clear Light,
Colin Newman,
Television Personalities,
Crime,
Ten City,
New Age Steppers,
June Days,
Darondo,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
FM Einheit,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Rapeman,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.