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 Netherlands and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Donald Fagen 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 Liliput to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Barry Ungar,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
The Gun Club,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moss Icon,
Crime,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
The Associates,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echospace,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
Jandek,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pole,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Scratch Acid,
Ten City,
Deakin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
Glenn Branca,
Michelle Simonal,
Wings,
Sound Behaviour,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
Quando Quango,
Fear,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Mandrill,
Soft Cell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gong,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.