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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Procol Harum to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brand Nubian,
The Wake,
Rotary Connection,
Matthew Halsall,
Brick,
Marc Almond,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nico,
Thee Headcoats,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Laurel Aitken,
Yellowson,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radiohead,
Toni Rubio,
The Black Dice,
John Foxx,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
Khruangbin,
Sixth Finger,
Todd Rundgren,
PIL,
Glenn Branca,
The Vogues,
Minutemen,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Enemy,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
Basic Channel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Pulsallama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Audionom,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Franke,
Deadbeat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jawbox,
Vainqueur,
Wolf Eyes,
The Victims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Human League,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.