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 Mozambique and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Move to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stetsasonic,
ABC,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gong,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
L. Decosne,
Zero Boys,
Scion,
Cal Tjader,
Yusef Lateef,
The Trojans,
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
Vladislav Delay,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Guru Guru,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Minutemen,
Sparks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
MC5,
The Fall,
the Association,
The Fuzztones,
The Modern Lovers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
10cc,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Remains,
Amon Düül II,
The Invisible,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dave Gahan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
June of 44,
Franke,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
the Bar-Kays,
Sam Rivers,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.