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 Egypt and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Oneida to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Magma,
Surgeon,
Minnie Riperton,
Excepter,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
Livin' Joy,
Easy Going,
Brass Construction,
The Misunderstood,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Television,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Knickerbockers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric Copeland,
Duran Duran,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Rundgren,
Chrome,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Max Romeo,
DNA,
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ponytail,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül II,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
Marmalade,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
Half Japanese,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.