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 Ireland and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 J.B.'s to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
Skaos,
Hot Snakes,
June Days,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Camberwell Now,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blossom Toes,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Red Krayola,
The Sound,
Derrick May,
Urselle,
E-Dancer,
Sun Ra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Smiths,
The Cramps,
Japan,
The Fugs,
The Blues Magoos,
Index,
June of 44,
The Cure,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Y Pants,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Au Pairs,
Desert Stars,
Lungfish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Patti Smith,
Lalann,
David McCallum,
Bill Wells,
The Barracudas,
Public Enemy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blancmange,
The Cowsills,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.