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 Namibia and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Man Eating Sloth,
Underground Resistance,
MC5,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yaz,
Thompson Twins,
Symarip,
X-102,
Bauhaus,
David McCallum,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brick,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Copeland,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
the Slits,
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Black Sheep,
Ken Boothe,
The Star Department,
The Monks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlback,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warren Ellis,
Cameo,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siglo XX,
Slave,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sixth Finger,
The Barracudas,
DJ Sneak,
Reagan Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
Swell Maps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Glenn Branca,
Blancmange,
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
Howard Jones,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
10cc,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.