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 Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Severed Heads to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hoover,
Erykah Badu,
The Walker Brothers,
Magma,
Von Mondo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Enemy,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
Brick,
Junior Murvin,
Suicide,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Sällskapet,
Guru Guru,
The Five Americans,
Ultra Naté,
The Flesh Eaters,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Model 500,
Lucky Dragons,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Connie Case,
New Order,
K-Klass,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
R.M.O.,
Ten City,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
Japan,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Infiniti,
Robert Hood,
Patti Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Subhumans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Almond,
The Electric Prunes,
JFA,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.