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 Mongolia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed,
Blossom Toes,
Barry Ungar,
Aswad,
PIL,
Hasil Adkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Sixth Finger,
OOIOO,
The Happenings,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Trumans Water,
The Neon Judgement,
Television Personalities,
Talk Talk,
China Crisis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yellowson,
Mandrill,
Interpol,
Swans,
MDC,
Grauzone,
Slave,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
The Blackbyrds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Darondo,
Marmalade,
Henry Cow,
the Slits,
Juan Atkins,
Second Layer,
Lungfish,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Toasters,
Slick Rick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Japan,
The Litter,
Crooked Eye,
Cameo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oneida,
Deadbeat,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
The United States of America,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.