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 Vietnam and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the jazz 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Metal Thangz,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Black Moon,
The Fugs,
Circle Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Reagan Youth,
Khruangbin,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yusef Lateef,
New Age Steppers,
John Holt,
Excepter,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moleskins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Audionom,
The Golliwogs,
The Skatalites,
K-Klass,
Black Pus,
The Angels of Light,
The Music Machine,
The Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
Fugazi,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Junior Murvin,
Minnie Riperton,
Severed Heads,
Little Man,
Magazine,
the Swans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barry Ungar,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Vogues,
Young Marble Giants,
Morten Harket,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Enemy,
Radio Birdman,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.