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 Bangladesh and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ 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 Second Layer to the electroclash 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté 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?
The Music Machine,
David McCallum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Josef K,
Nas,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
Maleditus Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
The Zeros,
Tubeway Army,
Soulsonic Force,
Metal Thangz,
The Gap Band,
Jawbox,
John Foxx,
The Fuzztones,
Reuben Wilson,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
New Order,
T.S.O.L.,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun City Girls,
Dennis Brown,
The Birthday Party,
Das Ding,
Little Man,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Happenings,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barbara Tucker,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Mandrill,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
The Toasters,
Tim Buckley,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.