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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Zero Boys,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Albert Ayler,
Deepchord,
Moebius,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Make Up,
Echospace,
Magma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fatback Band,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Basic Channel,
The Victims,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roger Hodgson,
DNA,
Toni Rubio,
Gabor Szabo,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
The Litter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
Sixth Finger,
The Seeds,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Charles Mingus,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
The Trojans,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Star Department,
Mars,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.