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 Samoa and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mojo Men to the electroclash 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Donald Byrd,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
Jacques Brel,
Wire,
Wasted Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Green,
The Litter,
Talk Talk,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
kango's stein massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
The Young Rascals,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Duran Duran,
the Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
H. Thieme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camouflage,
Anakelly,
FM Einheit,
Ice-T,
Aural Exciters,
Easy Going,
Rakim,
Oblivians,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aloha Tigers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Das Ding,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tubeway Army,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.