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 Bahamas and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 John Foxx to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Malaria!,
Connie Case,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ponytail,
Maurizio,
The Durutti Column,
Bootsy Collins,
Lyres,
Q65,
Ken Boothe,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Grauzone,
Unrelated Segments,
Essential Logic,
Alphaville,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Doobie Brothers,
Little Man,
Monks,
Swans,
Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
Blancmange,
Subhumans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Hasil Adkins,
E-Dancer,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crooked Eye,
Aswad,
Newcleus,
OOIOO,
The Modern Lovers,
Nirvana,
Joensuu 1685,
Franke,
Model 500,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.