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 United States and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Shadows of Knight to the dance 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Prince Buster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Faust,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Black Dice,
Al Stewart,
Babytalk,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dead C,
Toni Rubio,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
The Count Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Happenings,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fortunes,
Excepter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doors,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roger Hodgson,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
This Heat,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Pretty Things,
Barry Ungar,
Pere Ubu,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
The Standells,
John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
Brass Construction,
Yellowson,
A Certain Ratio,
Dead Boys,
The Evens,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Camouflage,
Crime,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.