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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Y Pants to the funk 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
The United States of America,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
PIL,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blossom Toes,
The Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
The Music Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Jacob Miller,
Radiohead,
Peter and Kerry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
Laurel Aitken,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
Anakelly,
Grey Daturas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jawbox,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Flash Fearless,
The Slackers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cramps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Das Ding,
Arcadia,
F. McDonald,
Trumans Water,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
Franke,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
Ice-T,
The Associates,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
Bang On A Can,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Minor Threat,
Pole,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.