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 Cambodia and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
Harmonia,
Howard Jones,
Chris & Cosey,
The Vogues,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Germs,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
New York Dolls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kurtis Blow,
Slave,
Toni Rubio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
E-Dancer,
Moebius,
Girls At Our Best!,
UT,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amon Düül II,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
The Last Poets,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lightning Bolt,
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Hardrive,
Joyce Sims,
Oneida,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
Anakelly,
Smog,
Kaleidoscope,
Ten City,
Eli Mardock,
Black Moon,
Pulsallama,
The Evens,
Jandek,
The Birthday Party,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
L. Decosne,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
Ronan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Colin Newman,
Nas,
Soulsonic Force,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.