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 Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 Oneida to the electroclash 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Gong,
Kool Moe Dee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cal Tjader,
Pantaleimon,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
H. Thieme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quando Quango,
Wire,
Aaron Thompson,
Moby Grape,
Black Flag,
Yusef Lateef,
Pere Ubu,
The Moleskins,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Hot Snakes,
R.M.O.,
Sixth Finger,
Lyres,
The Shadows of Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Derrick May,
Smog,
Al Stewart,
The American Breed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Drexciya,
Roger Hodgson,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Real Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Albert Ayler,
The Music Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Darondo,
Juan Atkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.