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 Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 The Move to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
OOIOO,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Radio Birdman,
Althea and Donna,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Associates,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Reagan Youth,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
F. McDonald,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Mills,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
The Velvet Underground,
The Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
ABBA,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
Piero Umiliani,
Tom Boy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agitation Free,
Alice Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
Negative Approach,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Altered Images,
Talk Talk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Dolphy,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.