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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Grauzone to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
The Knickerbockers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Young Marble Giants,
Ponytail,
Schoolly D,
Cluster,
Crime,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Hood,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smoke,
FM Einheit,
Parry Music,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
John Cale,
The Evens,
Erasure,
UT,
Rakim,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sonics,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Davy DMX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Move,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
Patti Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Henry Cow,
the Association,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Lou Reed,
Ice-T,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.