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 Suriname and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Misunderstood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fortunes,
Infiniti,
Clear Light,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash,
kango's stein massive,
The Divine Comedy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABBA,
Susan Cadogan,
Young Marble Giants,
a-ha,
Jeff Lynne,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Absolute Body Control,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
David McCallum,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crooked Eye,
Tubeway Army,
Shoche,
Warsaw,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
Roxette,
Mad Mike,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun City Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Silicon Teens,
D'Angelo,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
10cc,
Anthony Braxton,
Livin' Joy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
Todd Rundgren,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Modern Lovers,
The New Christs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Toni Rubio,
Saccharine Trust,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
the Association,
Boz Scaggs,
The Velvet Underground,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.