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 Bahrain and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Silicon Teens,
Wasted Youth,
Blossom Toes,
Carl Craig,
Andrew Hill,
The Associates,
Easy Going,
Brick,
Amon Düül,
T.S.O.L.,
the Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bob Dylan,
Patti Smith,
DJ Sneak,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fat Boys,
Ossler,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
E-Dancer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Inner City,
Dennis Brown,
Todd Rundgren,
Man Parrish,
The Selecter,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
The Shadows of Knight,
Babytalk,
The Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Dead Boys,
Masters at Work,
Radiohead,
JFA,
Bootsy Collins,
John Lydon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Talk Talk,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marcia Griffiths,
AZ,
The Index,
Icehouse,
Sixth Finger,
David McCallum,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
the Germs,
The Slits,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.