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 Turkey and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 Durutti Column to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mummies,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Half Japanese,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Mandrill,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ponytail,
10cc,
Blake Baxter,
Khruangbin,
Zero Boys,
The Sound,
Amazonics,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Albert Ayler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
The Fortunes,
Fela Kuti,
The Angels of Light,
Soul II Soul,
The Index,
Mantronix,
Mars,
Talk Talk,
Malaria!,
The Sonics,
the Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ronan,
Nils Olav,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
B.T. Express,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Black Bananas,
The Pretty Things,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
Das Ding,
The Victims,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gories,
Stereo Dub,
Scratch Acid,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.