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 Korea South and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Schoolly D to the electroclash 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Accadde A,
The Standells,
Lower 48,
The Five Americans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Oblivians,
Yaz,
Fear,
Grauzone,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Happenings,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Ossler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
DJ Sneak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Whodini,
Bootsy Collins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cameo,
Iggy Pop,
Popol Vuh,
Alison Limerick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tommy Roe,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
Trumans Water,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arab on Radar,
the Soft Cell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dave Gahan,
Steve Hackett,
Fugazi,
The Sonics,
Public Enemy,
X-Ray Spex,
Con Funk Shun,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Von Mondo,
Shoche,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
AZ,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.