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 Liberia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 New Age Steppers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
Sparks,
cv313,
Echospace,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neu!,
Pylon,
The Motions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
Harmonia,
The Dead C,
Man Parrish,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Guru Guru,
Yusef Lateef,
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Average White Band,
Make Up,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
Stetsasonic,
AZ,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter and Kerry,
Liliput,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Reagan Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Bob Dylan,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Terry,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Clarke,
The Buckinghams,
EPMD,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arcadia,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.