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 Canada and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Knickerbockers 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Blancmange,
The Motions,
Los Fastidios,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crash Course in Science,
The Barracudas,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
R.M.O.,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
Mary Jane Girls,
Urselle,
Brothers Johnson,
Newcleus,
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Index,
Procol Harum,
The Remains,
Siglo XX,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-Ray Spex,
Yazoo,
Roxette,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monks,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
Ludus,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
Laurel Aitken,
the Normal,
Isaac Hayes,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
The Associates,
Cluster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Interpol,
Spoonie Gee,
The Music Machine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cramps,
Model 500,
Flash Fearless,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.