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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
Fad Gadget,
The Pretty Things,
Y Pants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Christie,
A Certain Ratio,
Buzzcocks,
Amazonics,
10cc,
Ultravox,
Dead Boys,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Radiohead,
Pantytec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Heaven 17,
The Associates,
Trumans Water,
Connie Case,
Suicide,
Talk Talk,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Rapeman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
U.S. Maple,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
Lucky Dragons,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
New Order,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
Byron Stingily,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Bowie,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.