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 Tonga and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Prunes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
Technova,
FM Einheit,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Byrd,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
Television,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
Brass Construction,
The Selecter,
Lucky Dragons,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David McCallum,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Soul II Soul,
Malaria!,
Marc Almond,
Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
The Tremeloes,
Spandau Ballet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scientists,
F. McDonald,
The Cowsills,
Shoche,
Yaz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fortunes,
Ronan,
John Foxx,
Mad Mike,
T.S.O.L.,
Talk Talk,
Japan,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Parrish,
Brick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Icehouse,
Mantronix,
The Names,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smiths,
Gong,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.