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 Congo and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Wasted Youth,
The Moleskins,
The Fortunes,
Rakim,
The American Breed,
Oblivians,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
AZ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scientists,
Chrome,
Echospace,
Dennis Brown,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Aural Exciters,
Talk Talk,
World's Most,
The New Christs,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Buckinghams,
Thee Headcoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Soul Sonic Force,
T. Rex,
Joe Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
China Crisis,
The Dirtbombs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Youth Brigade,
The Wake,
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
The Black Dice,
Mo-Dettes,
Kaleidoscope,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soulsonic Force,
Scan 7,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
New York Dolls,
ABBA,
Supertramp,
Glenn Branca,
Nirvana,
Pulsallama,
David Axelrod,
Erasure,
Suicide,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.