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 Morocco and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Dead Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Visage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Aswad,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Hill,
The Fugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Todd Terry,
Goldenarms,
Livin' Joy,
The Fall,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
The Standells,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slackers,
Tommy Roe,
Spoonie Gee,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Patti Smith,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Babytalk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
Terry Callier,
Duran Duran,
Gang of Four,
Tres Demented,
Kaleidoscope,
The Residents,
Ossler,
Godley & Creme,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Kinks,
Sound Behaviour,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nirvana,
Thompson Twins,
Henry Cow,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.