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 Belarus and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Suburban Knight to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Rites of Spring,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
Dawn Penn,
Carl Craig,
Skarface,
The Cramps,
The Fugs,
Unwound,
KRS-One,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dark Day,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Country Teasers,
Lindisfarne,
The Gap Band,
DJ Sneak,
Technova,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
Goldenarms,
Blancmange,
Prince Buster,
Dead Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Duran Duran,
Charles Mingus,
The Pretty Things,
The Fuzztones,
Cluster,
Brothers Johnson,
The Wake,
Khruangbin,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Outsiders,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Easy Going,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Amon Düül,
Darondo,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
The Doors,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.