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 Kyrgyzstan and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wally Richardson to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Pantytec,
Bill Near,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slave,
Groovy Waters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Colin Newman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Dennis Brown,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
L. Decosne,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
Roy Ayers,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Desert Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stereo Dub,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
This Heat,
Oneida,
Flipper,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Pantaleimon,
Chrome,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lungfish,
Barrington Levy,
Eli Mardock,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sight & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Todd Rundgren,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.