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 Angola and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
MC5,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang of Four,
Whodini,
The Offenders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cowsills,
Masters at Work,
Boz Scaggs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monks,
Black Pus,
Camberwell Now,
Q and Not U,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Holt,
The Blackbyrds,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Angry Samoans,
The Moleskins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marine Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
Depeche Mode,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharoah Sanders,
Severed Heads,
One Last Wish,
Von Mondo,
The Stooges,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Crime,
The Busters,
Wolf Eyes,
Isaac Hayes,
Laurel Aitken,
Rod Modell,
Junior Murvin,
Dead Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
Country Teasers,
The Smiths,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.