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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 David McCallum to the crunk 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
R.M.O.,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
the Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
10cc,
The Beau Brummels,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalann,
Japan,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Wally Richardson,
Loose Ends,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
Niagra,
Harry Pussy,
New Order,
The Kinks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Zeros,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deakin,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Glenn Branca,
ABC,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camberwell Now,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Tim Buckley,
Minnie Riperton,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Ultravox,
Robert Hood,
Fela Kuti,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
Mad Mike,
Pulsallama,
Essential Logic,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.