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 Korea South and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faust,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Dual Sessions,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pulsallama,
The Grass Roots,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
X-Ray Spex,
Alphaville,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
The Velvet Underground,
Radio Birdman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ohio Players,
Black Flag,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
Joyce Sims,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
Bang On A Can,
The Vogues,
Swell Maps,
Pylon,
Eurythmics,
Steve Hackett,
Stereo Dub,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kayak,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.