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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Sight & Sound to the grunge 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Ludus,
Urselle,
Monolake,
Vladislav Delay,
Sound Behaviour,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
Jawbox,
Stiv Bators,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pantytec,
Gang Starr,
The Gories,
Camouflage,
Derrick May,
Smog,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cal Tjader,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
New Order,
Y Pants,
The Trojans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Pretty Things,
Crooked Eye,
The Five Americans,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
Alison Limerick,
Bob Dylan,
The Birthday Party,
Scratch Acid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thee Headcoats,
Cecil Taylor,
Gastr Del Sol,
Los Fastidios,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
Little Man,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Style,
Easy Going,
Ralphi Rosario,
Section 25,
Marc Almond,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.