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 Nepal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Brass Construction,
The Names,
The Dirtbombs,
Siglo XX,
Fugazi,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Das Ding,
Charles Mingus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Subhumans,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
Funkadelic,
Zero Boys,
The Remains,
Minnie Riperton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Bowie,
Dave Gahan,
Joy Division,
The Fuzztones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Michelle Simonal,
Oneida,
Pussy Galore,
Flash Fearless,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
Nik Kershaw,
Swell Maps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Human League,
Lindisfarne,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
The Invisible,
Rekid,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roy Ayers,
Oblivians,
Hardrive,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Groovy Waters,
Black Flag,
Deakin,
Supertramp,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bluetip,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.