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 Malaysia and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Babytalk to the jazz 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
The Tremeloes,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
The Searchers,
Talk Talk,
The Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
Suicide,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slick Rick,
The Young Rascals,
Mary Jane Girls,
Qualms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Excepter,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Intrusion,
Khruangbin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dead C,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Severed Heads,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
Steve Hackett,
Audionom,
Absolute Body Control,
The Birthday Party,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Fat Boys,
Zero Boys,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
The Skatalites,
Kas Product,
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
This Heat,
Marine Girls,
Cameo,
The Raincoats,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scientists,
LL Cool J,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.