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 Libya and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 JFA to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neu!,
Kayak,
Pere Ubu,
The Fugs,
Pagans,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barry Ungar,
Angry Samoans,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fuzztones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sister Nancy,
Massinfluence,
The Victims,
Blossom Toes,
The Standells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Index,
Bluetip,
Clear Light,
the Sonics,
Duran Duran,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hasil Adkins,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Hot Snakes,
Black Flag,
Cybotron,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Index,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sonics,
Little Man,
Cymande,
June Days,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Essential Logic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amazonics,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fad Gadget,
The Black Dice,
Quantec,
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.