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 Malta and from Calgary.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 snare 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 Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wings,
Qualms,
Derrick May,
Yellowson,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Sherman,
John Foxx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Adolescents,
The Blackbyrds,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
Crispy Ambulance,
DNA,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
Marvin Gaye,
B.T. Express,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bauhaus,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Colin Newman,
Marine Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Severed Heads,
Altered Images,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dennis Brown,
A Certain Ratio,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rakim,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
Janne Schatter,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.