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 Togo and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Techniques to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Jeru the Damaja,
CMW,
Matthew Bourne,
The Names,
Deadbeat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
Cymande,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes,
The Blackbyrds,
Can,
The Last Poets,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Marvin Gaye,
Shoche,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
The Selecter,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
Sparks,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
Byron Stingily,
Wire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lindisfarne,
Oblivians,
The Monochrome Set,
The Searchers,
Alton Ellis,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers,
Los Fastidios,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Scientists,
Alphaville,
Aural Exciters,
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani,
Magazine,
Scan 7,
Eric Copeland,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
Hoover,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.