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 Seychelles and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Public Image Ltd. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk 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?
Sound Behaviour,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen,
Scientists,
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Q65,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Finger,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Mantronix,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Index,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Barracudas,
Aswad,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Scan 7,
Juan Atkins,
Pierre Henry,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Organ,
The Sonics,
Roxy Music,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
Deepchord,
Slave,
The Five Americans,
Average White Band,
Dawn Penn,
Hot Snakes,
Tommy Roe,
Frankie Knuckles,
E-Dancer,
The Pop Group,
the Sonics,
Morten Harket,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The J.B.'s,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.