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 France and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Susan Cadogan to the punk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Liliput,
The Velvet Underground,
Panda Bear,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
a-ha,
Vainqueur,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Icehouse,
the Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
In Retrospect,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Subhumans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
The Angels of Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wasted Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
OOIOO,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Blues Magoos,
Ten City,
Bauhaus,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry's Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Procol Harum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill,
Pulsallama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Halsall,
The Stooges,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.