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 Ecuador and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Silicon Teens to the punk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camberwell Now,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Malaria!,
Tubeway Army,
Fear,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lightning Bolt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Letta Mbulu,
Piero Umiliani,
The Real Kids,
Bill Near,
Royal Trux,
a-ha,
Cameo,
The Walker Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Hoover,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David McCallum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bluetip,
Can,
Hashim,
John Holt,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Wells,
Rekid,
Neu!,
Alice Coltrane,
Audionom,
Barry Ungar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
Quantec,
Ornette Coleman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Junior Murvin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
R.M.O.,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.