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 Senegal and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Zero Boys to the techno 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Albert Ayler,
Erasure,
Black Pus,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Qualms,
Barry Ungar,
David Axelrod,
Nico,
Lungfish,
Henry Cow,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Scientists,
The Misunderstood,
Pierre Henry,
Television,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
Cluster,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vladislav Delay,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Charles Mingus,
Public Enemy,
Black Flag,
Lucky Dragons,
Howard Jones,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Associates,
Ronnie Foster,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Eve St. Jones,
China Crisis,
The Slits,
The Black Dice,
The Trojans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donald Byrd,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
Iggy Pop,
Max Romeo,
The Vogues,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Wyatt,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.