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 Tunisia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Q and Not U to the electroclash 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
Arcadia,
Charles Mingus,
The Blues Magoos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
Mars,
Nik Kershaw,
Rekid,
Porter Ricks,
The Dead C,
Minor Threat,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Wyatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Wake,
Ultravox,
Scott Walker,
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
Neil Young,
The Toasters,
Jeff Lynne,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crash Course in Science,
Scrapy,
Wasted Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chrome,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Lucky Dragons,
the Normal,
Pagans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rapeman,
Massinfluence,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
48th St. Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Durutti Column,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.