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 Bulgaria and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats,
Smog,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Sherman,
Hardrive,
Goldenarms,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
Nirvana,
Technova,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
The Walker Brothers,
Yaz,
The Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Blake Baxter,
The Residents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rhythm & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
The Doors,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brass Construction,
Glambeats Corp.,
kango's stein massive,
Cal Tjader,
LL Cool J,
DJ Sneak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hot Snakes,
Stetsasonic,
Organ,
Au Pairs,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker,
the Association,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
Sällskapet,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.