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 Vietnam and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Swans to the techno 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Theoretical Girls,
Wasted Youth,
The Saints,
AZ,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barry Ungar,
Guru Guru,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Severed Heads,
Roy Ayers,
T. Rex,
Agitation Free,
The Gladiators,
Lyres,
Agent Orange,
the Normal,
Camberwell Now,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minny Pops,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mojo Men,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Almond,
The Modern Lovers,
Dual Sessions,
Barbara Tucker,
Massinfluence,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bill Near,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Popol Vuh,
Sam Rivers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Monochrome Set,
Flipper,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
The Moleskins,
The Black Dice,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
The Selecter,
Q and Not U,
Steve Hackett,
Masters at Work,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo,
Harmonia,
Camouflage,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.