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 Greece and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bad Manners to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Barrington Levy,
Tubeway Army,
Joey Negro,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Eddi Front,
Clear Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young,
Reagan Youth,
Eric Dolphy,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kaleidoscope,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Country Teasers,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
B.T. Express,
LL Cool J,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ornette Coleman,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Josef K,
Ralphi Rosario,
Colin Newman,
Barbara Tucker,
Faust,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
Flamin' Groovies,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Misunderstood,
Organ,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Derrick Morgan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Finger,
Ponytail,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.