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 Laos and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
L. Decosne,
Pole,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monks,
Cymande,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Piero Umiliani,
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
Hasil Adkins,
FM Einheit,
Soft Machine,
Joy Division,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerri Chandler,
Wings,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Clarke,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Basic Channel,
OOIOO,
Brick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Goldenarms,
Marc Almond,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sound Behaviour,
the Human League,
MDC,
Minor Threat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lower 48,
Nico,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
The Beau Brummels,
Fluxion,
Essential Logic,
The Fugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hardrive,
Gang Green,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arthur Verocai,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Starr,
The Fire Engines,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.