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 Lithuania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Loose Ends to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cramps,
The Litter,
The Saints,
Skaos,
Arcadia,
The Remains,
Echospace,
Hashim,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
Arab on Radar,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Star Department,
Joyce Sims,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
Parry Music,
Iggy Pop,
Funky Four + One,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Fat Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Franke,
Charles Mingus,
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun Ra,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
Morten Harket,
Monolake,
Robert Wyatt,
Eurythmics,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Lynne,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scientists,
Chris & Cosey,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Hasil Adkins,
Aural Exciters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pussy Galore,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Clear Light,
Ossler,
H. Thieme,
Simply Red,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.