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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Faust to the disco 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
a-ha,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers,
Blossom Toes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ituana,
Can,
The Residents,
Grauzone,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Lynne,
Max Romeo,
PIL,
Derrick May,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
Robert Hood,
New York Dolls,
Brick,
Oneida,
Henry Cow,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pretty Things,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-102,
Joy Division,
Brass Construction,
K-Klass,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eden Ahbez,
Bush Tetras,
Rekid,
Crooked Eye,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Maurizio,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.