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 the UAE and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Negative Approach to the grunge 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Cell,
Henry Cow,
Reuben Wilson,
MDC,
This Heat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pop Group,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young,
Cal Tjader,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Hoover,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Womack,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
Harmonia,
Michelle Simonal,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Agitation Free,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
Gong,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Sight & Sound,
Little Man,
Los Fastidios,
Johnny Clarke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marvin Gaye,
Gabor Szabo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swell Maps,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
The Beau Brummels,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
Desert Stars,
Bad Manners,
Bauhaus,
Eric Copeland,
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dirtbombs,
ABC,
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.