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 Armenia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
China Crisis,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Deepchord,
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
Surgeon,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
Clear Light,
The Names,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Nas,
Josef K,
U.S. Maple,
Subhumans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Offenders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Techniques,
Matthew Halsall,
The Zeros,
Erykah Badu,
Warsaw,
The J.B.'s,
the Normal,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
Camouflage,
Icehouse,
Max Romeo,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
E-Dancer,
Freddie Wadling,
New Age Steppers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Görl,
cv313,
Pussy Galore,
Ultravox,
Steve Hackett,
Fad Gadget,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
Faraquet,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.