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 Sweden and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Clear Light to the rap 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra,
Rakim,
Scan 7,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Basic Channel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Sugar Minott,
Harmonia,
Alison Limerick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Don Cherry,
Youth Brigade,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Soft Machine,
The Red Krayola,
The Motions,
Dave Gahan,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys,
Faraquet,
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
Bad Manners,
Darondo,
T.S.O.L.,
Funky Four + One,
Peter and Kerry,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
Brick,
The Invisible,
Nik Kershaw,
PIL,
Pole,
Crime,
Rod Modell,
Todd Terry,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mo-Dettes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Babytalk,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.