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 Suriname and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Das Ding to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
UT,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Letta Mbulu,
The Knickerbockers,
Essential Logic,
Sixth Finger,
Bootsy Collins,
Colin Newman,
Niagra,
Graham Central Station,
Neu!,
ABBA,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
The Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
One Last Wish,
Unrelated Segments,
Eve St. Jones,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Section 25,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gun Club,
Derrick May,
The Mummies,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Finger,
Rod Modell,
Slick Rick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Guru Guru,
Deakin,
Pole,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cheater Slicks,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
10cc,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Durutti Column,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.