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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Aural Exciters to the disco 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Sun City Girls,
Massinfluence,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Howard Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vainqueur,
Fela Kuti,
Peter and Kerry,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
Gong,
Kayak,
The Move,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mojo Men,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Supertramp,
Brand Nubian,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Suicide,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pylon,
MDC,
Roxy Music,
X-101,
The Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Agitation Free,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
B.T. Express,
Robert Görl,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
Joey Negro,
Mandrill,
Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25,
Shuggie Otis,
Essential Logic,
Black Sheep,
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Au Pairs,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.