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 Vanuatu and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Electric Prunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Agent Orange,
Matthew Halsall,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
Main Source,
Interpol,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Laurel Aitken,
Henry Cow,
The Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blossom Toes,
Motorama,
Brick,
John Foxx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Talk Talk,
Eurythmics,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Kinks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rod Modell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monolake,
Rufus Thomas,
DJ Sneak,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chris & Cosey,
ABC,
AZ,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Sandy B,
Erasure,
Nirvana,
Colin Newman,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flash Fearless,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
The Gories,
Oblivians,
Vainqueur,
Dennis Brown,
the Normal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.