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 Sri Lanka and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 the Normal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Zeros,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Television,
Banda Bassotti,
The Velvet Underground,
Subhumans,
Qualms,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dual Sessions,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
This Heat,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
These Immortal Souls,
The Durutti Column,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deakin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Monks,
Erasure,
Liliput,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smiths,
Rod Modell,
The Selecter,
Accadde A,
K-Klass,
Easy Going,
Sugar Minott,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
Minny Pops,
the Swans,
Mo-Dettes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quantec,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fugazi,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.