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 Senegal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 The Martian to the crunk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Negative Approach,
Shoche,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liliput,
Gabor Szabo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
One Last Wish,
The Slits,
The Cowsills,
The Victims,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
Nico,
June Days,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Main Source,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television,
Sister Nancy,
Marmalade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sixth Finger,
Howard Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
World's Most,
New York Dolls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
Derrick May,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warren Ellis,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boz Scaggs,
Accadde A,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalann,
Fat Boys,
Kayak,
The Stooges,
Kerri Chandler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.