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 Nauru and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Barry Ungar to the grime 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Birthday Party,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flash Fearless,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Soft Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DJ Sneak,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
The Smiths,
Pagans,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
the Association,
Eden Ahbez,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
the Swans,
Roxette,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Second Layer,
Newcleus,
Ten City,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Trumans Water,
World's Most,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mission of Burma,
X-Ray Spex,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
The Dead C,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.