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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Y Pants to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Blossom Toes,
Marine Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lee Hazlewood,
June Days,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sugar Minott,
Stereo Dub,
The Mummies,
Fatback Band,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Neu!,
X-102,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
Bronski Beat,
Young Marble Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Desert Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Blancmange,
One Last Wish,
Godley & Creme,
OOIOO,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Animal Collective,
Alton Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
The Seeds,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
Bad Manners,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Parry Music,
AZ,
ABC,
Mandrill,
La Düsseldorf,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Index,
Albert Ayler,
Los Fastidios,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
The Last Poets,
Sound Behaviour,
Colin Newman,
the Human League,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.