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 Spain and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Skaos to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
The Grass Roots,
The Smiths,
The Moody Blues,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
The Cowsills,
Pantytec,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
Niagra,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
F. McDonald,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Accadde A,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q and Not U,
The Five Americans,
Magma,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bizarre Inc.,
Trumans Water,
Dawn Penn,
Suburban Knight,
John Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
Junior Murvin,
David Axelrod,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxy Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Banda Bassotti,
Von Mondo,
The Pretty Things,
Livin' Joy,
Camouflage,
The Monks,
Television,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Magazine,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.