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 Ghana and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Shoche to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
The United States of America,
The Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Robert Görl,
Minnie Riperton,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Clarke,
Malaria!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Bronski Beat,
Mark Hollis,
Tres Demented,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
Kaleidoscope,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Bananas,
Quadrant,
Nas,
Pole,
Public Image Ltd.,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
Nik Kershaw,
Scratch Acid,
Maleditus Sound,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Popol Vuh,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Technova,
Pulsallama,
The Misunderstood,
Talk Talk,
David Bowie,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
cv313,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Iggy Pop,
Lindisfarne,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.