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 Honduras and from Bremen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Smog,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Agent Orange,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Dennis Brown,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rod Modell,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Wolf Eyes,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nico,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jandek,
Jawbox,
Howard Jones,
The Mojo Men,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Barracudas,
Gang Starr,
Livin' Joy,
Model 500,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
World's Most,
Pylon,
Jerry's Kids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Swans,
Magazine,
Hashim,
Absolute Body Control,
Drexciya,
Bill Wells,
Ultravox,
R.M.O.,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David Axelrod,
The Angels of Light,
Brick,
Severed Heads,
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Minutemen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Funkadelic,
Y Pants,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.