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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 the Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Marc Almond,
T.S.O.L.,
Scan 7,
Public Image Ltd.,
Howard Jones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Amazonics,
Wally Richardson,
Bush Tetras,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funkadelic,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fortunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Kenny Larkin,
The Vogues,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
China Crisis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rapeman,
Moss Icon,
Warren Ellis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yellowson,
Das Ding,
The Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Trojans,
Darondo,
Masters at Work,
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Sandy B,
Make Up,
The Busters,
Derrick Morgan,
Lower 48,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
the Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Curtis Mayfield,
48th St. Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun Ra,
Ralphi Rosario,
CMW,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.