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 Nigeria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Livin' Joy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Gabor Szabo,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Severed Heads,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
The Evens,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Accadde A,
Barry Ungar,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Human League,
These Immortal Souls,
Ohio Players,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anakelly,
10cc,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gap Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Eddi Front,
Minor Threat,
Wolf Eyes,
Morten Harket,
The Knickerbockers,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Ronan,
Absolute Body Control,
Loose Ends,
Sugar Minott,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
The Index,
The Offenders,
Susan Cadogan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sam Rivers,
June Days,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.