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 Mauritius 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 the Soft Cell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
KRS-One,
F. McDonald,
The Zeros,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
the Human League,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bush Tetras,
The Music Machine,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swans,
Fad Gadget,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang Green,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
The Black Dice,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
T. Rex,
Derrick Morgan,
Radio Birdman,
Gong,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mad Mike,
The Skatalites,
The Leaves,
Dennis Brown,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
Magma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blancmange,
Funkadelic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kurtis Blow,
These Immortal Souls,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Q and Not U,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.