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 Comoros and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Tomorrow 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Prince Buster,
Mark Hollis,
The Moody Blues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerri Chandler,
the Bar-Kays,
Hashim,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Neon Judgement,
Deakin,
Suicide,
Altered Images,
Matthew Halsall,
Yaz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
David Bowie,
Deadbeat,
Brass Construction,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Quando Quango,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rosa Yemen,
Can,
Delta 5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack,
The Shadows of Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pagans,
Subhumans,
Alison Limerick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aloha Tigers,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chrome,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pylon,
Blake Baxter,
The Invisible,
Fugazi,
Suburban Knight,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.