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 Georgia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Maleditus Sound to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Evens,
Technova,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
the Sonics,
World's Most,
Aaron Thompson,
Pussy Galore,
Iggy Pop,
Jimmy McGriff,
T.S.O.L.,
Bluetip,
Nik Kershaw,
Young Marble Giants,
Slave,
The Angels of Light,
Minutemen,
The Velvet Underground,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doors,
Anakelly,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
Sister Nancy,
Mission of Burma,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
8 Eyed Spy,
Easy Going,
Lalann,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Move,
Byron Stingily,
Tommy Roe,
The Names,
Altered Images,
Black Pus,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
Donald Byrd,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Bob Dylan,
Joy Division,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Bourne,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.