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 Egypt and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
Panda Bear,
B.T. Express,
Qualms,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Unwound,
Matthew Halsall,
John Holt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crash Course in Science,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Section 25,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
The Moleskins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Groovy Waters,
the Swans,
Patti Smith,
Lungfish,
Arab on Radar,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Toni Rubio,
Pulsallama,
Carl Craig,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
Max Romeo,
Marc Almond,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lindisfarne,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
The Offenders,
Bronski Beat,
Lucky Dragons,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.