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 Belarus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
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 spring reverb 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 Can to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
Black Bananas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Crooked Eye,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
Ten City,
X-102,
June Days,
Simply Red,
Gang of Four,
The Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ronnie Foster,
the Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Adolescents,
Piero Umiliani,
The Zeros,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Magma,
Von Mondo,
Supertramp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
Stetsasonic,
Scratch Acid,
Kayak,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Warren Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
The Music Machine,
10cc,
The Doobie Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Copeland,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
Cameo,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.