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 Senegal and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Country Teasers to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ponytail,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fatback Band,
The Kinks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mark Hollis,
Joyce Sims,
These Immortal Souls,
Joy Division,
The Doors,
Magma,
Nik Kershaw,
H. Thieme,
Outsiders,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
Main Source,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
Scrapy,
Nas,
Eric Dolphy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
The Zeros,
Flash Fearless,
Iggy Pop,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rotary Connection,
Freddie Wadling,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
the Human League,
The Pop Group,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Loose Ends,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
The Last Poets,
Gang Starr,
Depeche Mode,
Erykah Badu,
Marvin Gaye,
MDC,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Henry Cow,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.