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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drive Like Jehu to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
World's Most,
The Residents,
Skarface,
Eddi Front,
Jeff Lynne,
Excepter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Victims,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day,
the Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
Royal Trux,
Wasted Youth,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DJ Style,
Agitation Free,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
Talk Talk,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
Roxette,
The Gories,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
Nico,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Hot Snakes,
Altered Images,
Magazine,
Rufus Thomas,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Prince Buster,
Flash Fearless,
Idris Muhammad,
Dave Gahan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Kinks,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.