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 Argentina and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pop Group to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Fugazi,
Neu!,
The Smiths,
Soft Machine,
Franke,
Index,
Black Flag,
Lucky Dragons,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
MDC,
Lalann,
Gang Gang Dance,
Magma,
Hasil Adkins,
Qualms,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter & Gordon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronan,
Supertramp,
The Residents,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Count Five,
Masters at Work,
Bill Near,
Bizarre Inc.,
Judy Mowatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terrestrial Tones,
Saccharine Trust,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gories,
The Buckinghams,
Interpol,
K-Klass,
Eurythmics,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy Collins,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Warren Ellis,
Inner City,
Half Japanese,
The Beau Brummels,
Fatback Band,
The Cramps,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.