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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Gong,
Kaleidoscope,
Little Man,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
The Evens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
Tres Demented,
Inner City,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Technova,
Aural Exciters,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gladiators,
Jerry's Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
The Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Royal Trux,
the Soft Cell,
Quando Quango,
Radiopuhelimet,
L. Decosne,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fat Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-101,
This Heat,
cv313,
Bush Tetras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Idris Muhammad,
Oneida,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
Can,
Wally Richardson,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.