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 Libya and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar 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 Saccharine Trust to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
The Fire Engines,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mojo Men,
Marc Almond,
The Monochrome Set,
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Easy Going,
F. McDonald,
Lightning Bolt,
Yusef Lateef,
Duran Duran,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Darondo,
Eve St. Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Visage,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scientists,
Ludus,
Magma,
The Residents,
Gang Starr,
UT,
Mandrill,
Wings,
The Neon Judgement,
One Last Wish,
Los Fastidios,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
The Standells,
Chris & Cosey,
Procol Harum,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Section 25,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Accadde A,
Dennis Brown,
Youth Brigade,
E-Dancer,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
The Zeros,
Fela Kuti,
The Buckinghams,
Aswad,
Tommy Roe,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.