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 Solomon Islands and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flash Fearless to the rock 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lyres,
Tears for Fears,
Scion,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
Oneida,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
The Pop Group,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Ice-T,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Agent Orange,
Yusef Lateef,
Maurizio,
Niagra,
EPMD,
Little Man,
Television Personalities,
L. Decosne,
The Knickerbockers,
Pagans,
The Slackers,
Whodini,
Qualms,
E-Dancer,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Symarip,
The New Christs,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Chrome,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
Thompson Twins,
Moebius,
Average White Band,
D'Angelo,
Gichy Dan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scratch Acid,
Visage,
Motorama,
kango's stein massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
Supertramp,
John Cale,
Letta Mbulu,
Connie Case,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.