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 Dominica and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Star Department 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Coltrane,
Vladislav Delay,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reuben Wilson,
Tears for Fears,
Barclay James Harvest,
Howard Jones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Godley & Creme,
Brand Nubian,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
A Certain Ratio,
Charles Mingus,
Audionom,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Byron Stingily,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cymande,
The Cowsills,
Arab on Radar,
Bush Tetras,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Bourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Flag,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
Ludus,
The Misunderstood,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Warren Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Walker Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.