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 Yemen and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Janne Schatter to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
Metal Thangz,
Qualms,
Franke,
10cc,
Sparks,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
Freddie Wadling,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Wake,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
The Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Bananas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
Black Moon,
Scratch Acid,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Neu!,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
Slave,
Henry Cow,
Erykah Badu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Junior Murvin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Archie Shepp,
Guru Guru,
The Birthday Party,
The Pop Group,
Michelle Simonal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
DJ Sneak,
Jawbox,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visage,
Suburban Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sonics,
MC5,
Rekid,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.