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 Austria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 John Foxx to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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?
Tubeway Army,
Arthur Verocai,
Mission of Burma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fuzztones,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Bananas,
PIL,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grey Daturas,
The Slits,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Osbourne,
Letta Mbulu,
Urselle,
Desert Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Blues Magoos,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
Alphaville,
Simply Red,
Blancmange,
Magma,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
The United States of America,
The Real Kids,
The Vogues,
Sun City Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Y Pants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Coltrane,
JFA,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
Camberwell Now,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mummies,
Japan,
Pantaleimon,
Adolescents,
Erykah Badu,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.