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 Ukraine and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tommy Roe to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu,
Chris Corsano,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
E-Dancer,
10cc,
Rites of Spring,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agent Orange,
the Germs,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
Heaven 17,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
Sugar Minott,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Soulsonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
John Cale,
Brass Construction,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
The Victims,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultra Naté,
Ken Boothe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television Personalities,
The Martian,
Nation of Ulysses,
Can,
Max Romeo,
Zero Boys,
Nils Olav,
kango's stein massive,
Joy Division,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.