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 Bhutan and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Dirtbombs to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Skatalites,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultra Naté,
Guru Guru,
Black Flag,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Görl,
Dark Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fat Boys,
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Aswad,
Lou Christie,
AZ,
Dual Sessions,
Pole,
The Toasters,
The Buckinghams,
Ponytail,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
The Fortunes,
The Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry's Kids,
Agent Orange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
The Last Poets,
Excepter,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott Heron,
June Days,
Pierre Henry,
Marcia Griffiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Leaves,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.