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 Guatemala and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Isaac Hayes,
Masters at Work,
Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Malaria!,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
Arthur Verocai,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fuzztones,
Metal Thangz,
Tom Boy,
Y Pants,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
Camberwell Now,
Rekid,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
Ronan,
Theoretical Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Das Ding,
Davy DMX,
Fat Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slave,
Boogie Down Productions,
Michelle Simonal,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
The Mojo Men,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats,
The Techniques,
Barry Ungar,
The Offenders,
Wolf Eyes,
Von Mondo,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
In Retrospect,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Young Marble Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.