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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Beau Brummels to the crunk 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
CMW,
Quando Quango,
Magma,
The Blues Magoos,
Scrapy,
Franke,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blake Baxter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
Yazoo,
The Zeros,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Porter Ricks,
Adolescents,
The Monochrome Set,
L. Decosne,
The Angels of Light,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
Scientists,
Dark Day,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quantec,
Silicon Teens,
Eric Copeland,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Neu!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
X-102,
Tomorrow,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
Underground Resistance,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Chris Corsano,
The Last Poets,
R.M.O.,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonic Youth,
The Real Kids,
John Lydon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.