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 Ukraine and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joyce Sims to the punk 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Selecter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lyres,
The Angels of Light,
Mission of Burma,
Arab on Radar,
La Düsseldorf,
Yusef Lateef,
Cybotron,
Magazine,
Adolescents,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moleskins,
10cc,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sound,
Moebius,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Walker Brothers,
David Bowie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lakeside,
The Fortunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
Rites of Spring,
Kerri Chandler,
OOIOO,
Bush Tetras,
Public Enemy,
Brothers Johnson,
Stiv Bators,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Wells,
Glenn Branca,
The Move,
New York Dolls,
Todd Terry,
H. Thieme,
Lucky Dragons,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slits,
The Monks,
Easy Going,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Massinfluence,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.