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 Turkmenistan and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 The Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Victims,
Spoonie Gee,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
New Order,
The Saints,
Kerri Chandler,
PIL,
Sandy B,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pussy Galore,
Pagans,
Crime,
Talk Talk,
Surgeon,
Ronnie Foster,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Enemy,
Mandrill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Machine,
The Five Americans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
Terry Callier,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
June Days,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Barbara Tucker,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
Colin Newman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nik Kershaw,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.