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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Barracudas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unwound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra,
The Raincoats,
Moby Grape,
Deakin,
Loose Ends,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gap Band,
The Buckinghams,
the Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Spoonie Gee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Monochrome Set,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Swans,
Althea and Donna,
The Toasters,
Terry Callier,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Tremeloes,
Radio Birdman,
Clear Light,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
Public Enemy,
Aaron Thompson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Infiniti,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vladislav Delay,
The Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
Henry Cow,
Marmalade,
Radiohead,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alison Limerick,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Isaac Hayes,
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sister Nancy,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Star Department,
the Association,
Hot Snakes,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.