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 Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the techno 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Pussy Galore,
Roxy Music,
Albert Ayler,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Teasers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
Pantytec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Visage,
Minny Pops,
Hashim,
ABBA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
MC5,
Juan Atkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crooked Eye,
Ohio Players,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Technova,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Yazoo,
DJ Style,
Graham Central Station,
Chris & Cosey,
Wire,
Procol Harum,
The Sisters of Mercy,
D'Angelo,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Joyce Sims,
Magazine,
The Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Yaz,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mission of Burma,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.