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 Estonia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eurythmics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers,
Minor Threat,
Arcadia,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Green,
Morten Harket,
Darondo,
DJ Style,
Underground Resistance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aaron Thompson,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
Quando Quango,
Moebius,
Country Teasers,
Thompson Twins,
Stetsasonic,
Visage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
Nik Kershaw,
E-Dancer,
Soft Cell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
The Velvet Underground,
Vladislav Delay,
Interpol,
Qualms,
In Retrospect,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
Slave,
Alice Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
The Standells,
Ice-T,
The Evens,
Adolescents,
Half Japanese,
DNA,
Rakim,
H. Thieme,
Ultravox,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.