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 Romania and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roy Ayers to the grunge 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Steve Hackett,
Swell Maps,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
This Heat,
Franke,
Parry Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Derrick May,
The Mummies,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Hood,
Dark Day,
These Immortal Souls,
Whodini,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
Bush Tetras,
Amon Düül,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Ice-T,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
Vladislav Delay,
Fad Gadget,
Cal Tjader,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Juan Atkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Index,
Don Cherry,
The Beau Brummels,
Chris & Cosey,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
the Normal,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
Spoonie Gee,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Kinks,
Fatback Band,
Loose Ends,
Crime,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.