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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brass Construction,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Boz Scaggs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Neon Judgement,
8 Eyed Spy,
Skaos,
Blossom Toes,
Prince Buster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angry Samoans,
Barry Ungar,
Groovy Waters,
UT,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reagan Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lindisfarne,
Byron Stingily,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
Can,
Dave Gahan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David McCallum,
The Move,
Easy Going,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Outsiders,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
D'Angelo,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.