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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Susan Cadogan to the grime 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül,
Skaos,
The Move,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
Sarah Menescal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Clear Light,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skriet,
The Fire Engines,
Unwound,
The United States of America,
Tomorrow,
This Heat,
The Happenings,
Moebius,
The Five Americans,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Organ,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks,
Depeche Mode,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
Groovy Waters,
Sixth Finger,
Cheater Slicks,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
Joy Division,
Sun City Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Young Marble Giants,
Nico,
a-ha,
Grey Daturas,
Simply Red,
Joyce Sims,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.