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 Jamaica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Lou Reed 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 The Mummies to the funk 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
K-Klass,
The Dead C,
Bronski Beat,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Royal Trux,
Little Man,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
The Saints,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sugar Minott,
Scott Walker,
Lower 48,
Bobby Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
Buzzcocks,
Iggy Pop,
Amazonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Livin' Joy,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Moss Icon,
The Sonics,
Minor Threat,
Crime,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
Quando Quango,
Cal Tjader,
Howard Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
La Düsseldorf,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Youth Brigade,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gang Green,
Michelle Simonal,
Depeche Mode,
Technova,
Jacob Miller,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Wings,
Ronnie Foster,
The Motions,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.