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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Dead Boys,
The Doors,
MC5,
The Last Poets,
This Heat,
Eddi Front,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
JFA,
Zero Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Guru Guru,
John Holt,
Shuggie Otis,
Isaac Hayes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mojo Men,
UT,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Warsaw,
Gang Green,
Ituana,
Intrusion,
Dawn Penn,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
Reagan Youth,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eurythmics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
KRS-One,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Monks,
ABBA,
Sonic Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dark Day,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Byron Stingily,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.