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 Mali 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Selecter to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
Pulsallama,
Steve Hackett,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare,
Connie Case,
Alice Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gong,
Gregory Isaacs,
U.S. Maple,
The Saints,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pussy Galore,
Judy Mowatt,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
Buzzcocks,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bluetip,
The Fuzztones,
Accadde A,
Massinfluence,
Ponytail,
Babytalk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Agent Orange,
Basic Channel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Average White Band,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ken Boothe,
Sam Rivers,
Hardrive,
Bill Wells,
Soulsonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter,
Bad Manners,
Swell Maps,
Lalann,
The Real Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brass Construction,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Sparks,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.