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 Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Minny Pops to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Technova,
Rotary Connection,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gap Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
The Barracudas,
Alphaville,
Frankie Knuckles,
Robert Wyatt,
The Tremeloes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultravox,
Chrome,
Eurythmics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DJ Sneak,
La Düsseldorf,
Delta 5,
The New Christs,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moody Blues,
the Human League,
The Index,
the Normal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Byron Stingily,
Eve St. Jones,
Marvin Gaye,
the Association,
Terry Callier,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Vainqueur,
Duran Duran,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.