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 Rwanda and from Lille.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Blossom Toes,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Amazonics,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
Radiohead,
Crash Course in Science,
the Fania All-Stars,
June of 44,
Lungfish,
Gang Starr,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-Ray Spex,
Pylon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sound Behaviour,
Scrapy,
Donald Byrd,
Dennis Brown,
The Black Dice,
Todd Rundgren,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Juan Atkins,
Metal Thangz,
Nik Kershaw,
Lyres,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Japan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echospace,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Procol Harum,
Icehouse,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Moss Icon,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Subhumans,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.