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 Austria and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Pussy Galore,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tubeway Army,
Half Japanese,
Youth Brigade,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
Barbara Tucker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
ABBA,
The Names,
China Crisis,
Deepchord,
Junior Murvin,
Tim Buckley,
June of 44,
Cheater Slicks,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Liliput,
The United States of America,
Faraquet,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Fela Kuti,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
One Last Wish,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Hill,
Clear Light,
MDC,
Soft Machine,
The Remains,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Order,
Zero Boys,
The Saints,
LL Cool J,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scientists,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
June Days,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Laurel Aitken,
The Shadows of Knight,
Icehouse,
The Birthday Party,
Joy Division,
Leonard Cohen,
Ituana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.