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 Gambia and from Paris.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Traffic Nightmare 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Pulsallama,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
John Foxx,
Josef K,
the Swans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Traffic Nightmare,
Accadde A,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sandy B,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
Massinfluence,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Livin' Joy,
Fluxion,
David McCallum,
The Slackers,
Blancmange,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
Mission of Burma,
Harmonia,
The Index,
Ohio Players,
The Blues Magoos,
Easy Going,
Andrew Hill,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brass Construction,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerri Chandler,
Talk Talk,
Quantec,
Minor Threat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Second Layer,
Pere Ubu,
Spandau Ballet,
Japan,
Brick,
Crime,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronan,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.