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 Malaysia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Procol Harum to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
MC5,
Byron Stingily,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Sugar Minott,
Q and Not U,
The Human League,
The Cure,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
X-102,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Freddie Wadling,
T.S.O.L.,
Steve Hackett,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals,
Metal Thangz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Neil Young,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
48th St. Collective,
Fear,
Main Source,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
The Buckinghams,
Reagan Youth,
Sight & Sound,
David Bowie,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Smooth,
10cc,
The Litter,
X-Ray Spex,
Neu!,
Symarip,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.