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 East Timor and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sisters of Mercy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Görl,
Vainqueur,
Monks,
Easy Going,
The Dead C,
Ohio Players,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
The Smoke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grey Daturas,
Wire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
UT,
Pylon,
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Inner City,
Reuben Wilson,
Wolf Eyes,
Television,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flipper,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
The Stooges,
Todd Rundgren,
Cameo,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
Niagra,
Josef K,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Peter and Kerry,
The Electric Prunes,
The Blackbyrds,
Altered Images,
Moss Icon,
The Buckinghams,
The Blues Magoos,
Audionom,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lee Hazlewood,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.