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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Leaves to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Velvet Underground,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Main Source,
Swell Maps,
Arthur Verocai,
Bad Manners,
Audionom,
Groovy Waters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Outsiders,
Magma,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
The Smiths,
D'Angelo,
Gabor Szabo,
a-ha,
kango's stein massive,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Sneak,
Erasure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
June Days,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Organ,
Franke,
The Red Krayola,
Scientists,
KRS-One,
Scrapy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men,
Janne Schatter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABBA,
The Moleskins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Icehouse,
Black Moon,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mark Hollis,
The Saints,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.