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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Trumans Water to the grunge 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Ken Boothe,
Masters at Work,
Peter & Gordon,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
Main Source,
Gang Starr,
Kerri Chandler,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wolf Eyes,
Lucky Dragons,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scratch Acid,
T.S.O.L.,
Skriet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
R.M.O.,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sparks,
Public Enemy,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Aswad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
Camouflage,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
The Gun Club,
The Happenings,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Scion,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Television,
Babytalk,
Make Up,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kaleidoscope,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Dennis Brown,
Max Romeo,
E-Dancer,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.