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 Brazil and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Slick Rick to the disco 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Charles Mingus,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Last Poets,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
Davy DMX,
kango's stein massive,
Skriet,
Graham Central Station,
Moby Grape,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Negative Approach,
the Swans,
Mandrill,
Erykah Badu,
The Kinks,
Nico,
Country Teasers,
Harry Pussy,
John Cale,
Scientists,
Amon Düül,
Q and Not U,
The Evens,
Talk Talk,
Gang Green,
Bronski Beat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funky Four + One,
The Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
Guru Guru,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
cv313,
The Stooges,
Michelle Simonal,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
Warren Ellis,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kayak,
Prince Buster,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.