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 Botswana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lou Reed 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 Wake to the rock 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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Bananas,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Lungfish,
The Real Kids,
Blake Baxter,
The Gladiators,
Godley & Creme,
Alison Limerick,
Monolake,
The Trojans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Theoretical Girls,
Essential Logic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
David Bowie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Lydon,
AZ,
Henry Cow,
Gang of Four,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Wells,
The Happenings,
Ossler,
Inner City,
Gichy Dan,
Fela Kuti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Duran Duran,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Archie Shepp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Chrome,
Q and Not U,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
The Seeds,
Lyres,
Lou Reed,
The Sound,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.