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 Latvia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 Derrick May to the grime 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Country Teasers,
EPMD,
Brick,
UT,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
The Golliwogs,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
Howard Jones,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Motorama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Unrelated Segments,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Cameo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Colin Newman,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Lynne,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
Ituana,
The Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Flash Fearless,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Au Pairs,
Pussy Galore,
Scott Walker,
Echospace,
cv313,
DJ Sneak,
Camouflage,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.