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 Yemen and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin 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 Arab on Radar to the jazz 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Selecter,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
The Names,
Brand Nubian,
Tres Demented,
Quadrant,
Bobby Sherman,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
Public Enemy,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
B.T. Express,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
The Walker Brothers,
Henry Cow,
U.S. Maple,
Alphaville,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Althea and Donna,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Görl,
New York Dolls,
Radiohead,
Alton Ellis,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool Moe Dee,
Infiniti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.