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 Djibouti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
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 sitar 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 Arab on Radar to the funk 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Little Man,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minutemen,
X-101,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sound,
Sun City Girls,
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Invisible,
Wasted Youth,
The Buckinghams,
Junior Murvin,
Japan,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Altered Images,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Sheep,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Ice-T,
Soulsonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Lydon,
The Happenings,
Mission of Burma,
The Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
Tim Buckley,
Ossler,
Inner City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
The Zeros,
Joyce Sims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rites of Spring,
Gerry Rafferty,
a-ha,
Robert Wyatt,
U.S. Maple,
The Velvet Underground,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.