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 Romania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
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 mellotron 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 T. Rex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
JFA,
Symarip,
The Moleskins,
China Crisis,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Tears for Fears,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
A Certain Ratio,
Fear,
X-101,
Boz Scaggs,
Moebius,
Bobby Sherman,
Henry Cow,
Ituana,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
Lightning Bolt,
Guru Guru,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Motions,
The Birthday Party,
UT,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grey Daturas,
Sight & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronan,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Aloha Tigers,
Youth Brigade,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
Sam Rivers,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Finger,
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.