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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Archie Shepp to the funk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marvin Gaye,
The Saints,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Womack,
John Cale,
Al Stewart,
The Mojo Men,
Malaria!,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Technova,
Panda Bear,
Make Up,
Joey Negro,
The Gladiators,
Symarip,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Ultravox,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Index,
Terry Callier,
Index,
This Heat,
The Cramps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maleditus Sound,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Eve St. Jones,
Cluster,
The Count Five,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
Black Pus,
Unwound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
Sandy B,
Howard Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke,
Skriet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Electric Prunes,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.