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 East Timor and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 8 Eyed Spy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Smiths,
John Foxx,
Roger Hodgson,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
John Holt,
Niagra,
Stiv Bators,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
The Barracudas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
FM Einheit,
The United States of America,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mission of Burma,
Black Moon,
Scientists,
Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Electric Prunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Yazoo,
Don Cherry,
The Velvet Underground,
The Young Rascals,
Michelle Simonal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Pulsallama,
Index,
Skarface,
cv313,
Symarip,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Japan,
Spandau Ballet,
Ice-T,
Khruangbin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Oneida,
Lungfish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camouflage,
CMW,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.