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 Slovakia and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Loose Ends,
The Doors,
Rod Modell,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Audionom,
Cluster,
David McCallum,
Charles Mingus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip,
June Days,
Fela Kuti,
Barry Ungar,
Skriet,
Ronan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Derrick May,
Bizarre Inc.,
Second Layer,
Lyres,
Blancmange,
The Toasters,
Ultra Naté,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alton Ellis,
Accadde A,
The Remains,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Oblivians,
Crispy Ambulance,
In Retrospect,
X-Ray Spex,
The Misunderstood,
Talk Talk,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
Dave Gahan,
Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
Boredoms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Terry,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Sonics,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.