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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Second Layer to the punk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Wings,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pulsallama,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Moebius,
Index,
Can,
Aloha Tigers,
Malaria!,
MDC,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Franke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fad Gadget,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
The Toasters,
Eddi Front,
The Last Poets,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aswad,
Surgeon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Visage,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
The Invisible,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Zero Boys,
Television Personalities,
The Slackers,
Parry Music,
Bobby Womack,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marine Girls,
Reagan Youth,
The Happenings,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Copeland,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Fraelich,
Soulsonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers,
Bad Manners,
Laurel Aitken,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.