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 Colombia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Bobby Womack,
Swell Maps,
Half Japanese,
ABC,
The Birthday Party,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
Charles Mingus,
Nik Kershaw,
D'Angelo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
Slave,
Bad Manners,
Thee Headcoats,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
Josef K,
Grauzone,
Althea and Donna,
The Count Five,
Sandy B,
Kaleidoscope,
Sam Rivers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
Country Teasers,
Lyres,
Mad Mike,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT,
Dead Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Funkadelic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Wells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacob Miller,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Germs,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Morten Harket,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sugar Minott,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.