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 Mexico and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Nico to the grime 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
Zero Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Warren Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
the Soft Cell,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Vogues,
Japan,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Bananas,
Toni Rubio,
Hoover,
The Real Kids,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Copeland,
Kaleidoscope,
Ossler,
Pantytec,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T.S.O.L.,
48th St. Collective,
Television,
Joy Division,
Pole,
Stiv Bators,
Yellowson,
Kenny Larkin,
Index,
Lyres,
Darondo,
The Fuzztones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
CMW,
Public Enemy,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
Rod Modell,
The Cure,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.