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 Thailand and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Y Pants to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Quadrant,
Chris Corsano,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slits,
Monks,
Max Romeo,
Mark Hollis,
The Techniques,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Sister Nancy,
Swell Maps,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Supertramp,
the Human League,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Davy DMX,
10cc,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter & Gordon,
Danielle Patucci,
Crime,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arcadia,
The Slackers,
The Real Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Hood,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Move,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
The United States of America,
Zapp,
David McCallum,
Can,
F. McDonald,
The Fall,
AZ,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.