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 Italy and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Model 500 to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Davy DMX,
The Happenings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Parrish,
The Durutti Column,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Wyatt,
Sound Behaviour,
Judy Mowatt,
Echospace,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mad Mike,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
Cluster,
Juan Atkins,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronnie Foster,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Au Pairs,
EPMD,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Invisible,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter and Kerry,
Mission of Burma,
Ken Boothe,
D'Angelo,
Amon Düül II,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
Jandek,
Scion,
Warren Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Moon,
Joey Negro,
The Fuzztones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kas Product,
Eddi Front,
Brand Nubian,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.