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 Cameroon and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Order,
The Star Department,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
a-ha,
Connie Case,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
Andrew Hill,
U.S. Maple,
Skarface,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arthur Verocai,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Wyatt,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Circle Jerks,
Jandek,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dirtbombs,
Zero Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Letta Mbulu,
Scientists,
Thee Headcoats,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
This Heat,
The Mummies,
The Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lindisfarne,
Q65,
John Cale,
The Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chrome,
The Busters,
Yusef Lateef,
Howard Jones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Procol Harum,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
Oblivians,
Sixth Finger,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.