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 Vanuatu and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Judy Mowatt,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Piero Umiliani,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Marc Almond,
The Young Rascals,
EPMD,
The Dead C,
Nick Fraelich,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Flag,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Agent Orange,
Joy Division,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
UT,
Anakelly,
Japan,
The Barracudas,
Robert Görl,
The Standells,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter and Kerry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
Q and Not U,
Animal Collective,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Outsiders,
Cluster,
The Stooges,
Jandek,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Kool Moe Dee,
JFA,
Eurythmics,
Cameo,
Marvin Gaye,
Ornette Coleman,
The Red Krayola,
Trumans Water,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.