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 Zambia and from New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Hardrive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Cameo,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Au Pairs,
Curtis Mayfield,
48th St. Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Black Dice,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Average White Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swans,
Pylon,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Hoover,
The Litter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
Index,
Wings,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
D'Angelo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
Darondo,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
the Bar-Kays,
Josef K,
The Kinks,
The Gun Club,
The Selecter,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
The Velvet Underground,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Tremeloes,
Brick,
Unrelated Segments,
Easy Going,
Agent Orange,
Junior Murvin,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.