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 Indonesia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Star Department,
ABC,
FM Einheit,
The Birthday Party,
Arthur Verocai,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grey Daturas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
Los Fastidios,
Con Funk Shun,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Unrelated Segments,
Bizarre Inc.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Franke,
Whodini,
AZ,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Pus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
JFA,
Quantec,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Normal,
Spoonie Gee,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
Blancmange,
Masters at Work,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
Oblivians,
Television Personalities,
Anakelly,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June of 44,
The Moody Blues,
The Fugs,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
Animal Collective,
Urselle,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.