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 Iraq and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 K-Klass to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers 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?
Supertramp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun City Girls,
The Toasters,
Joensuu 1685,
Chris Corsano,
Ash Ra Tempel,
LL Cool J,
The Names,
Pole,
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Technova,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru,
The Grass Roots,
Wings,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
E-Dancer,
Funkadelic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
Warren Ellis,
The Barracudas,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Thee Headcoats,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Khruangbin,
Zero Boys,
The Star Department,
The Fuzztones,
Grauzone,
Roxette,
Slick Rick,
The Red Krayola,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
Mad Mike,
The Golliwogs,
Scrapy,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Simply Red,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.