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 Russia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
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 guitar 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Neu!,
Quando Quango,
Wire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Lee Hazlewood,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
Kaleidoscope,
X-102,
In Retrospect,
Kurtis Blow,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Smog,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Dead Boys,
Ronan,
Cybotron,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
EPMD,
Monolake,
Marc Almond,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
MC5,
Cluster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Don Cherry,
Susan Cadogan,
Steve Hackett,
Television,
H. Thieme,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Tres Demented,
Slave,
Second Layer,
Hashim,
Wings,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Metal Thangz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo,
Maurizio,
Sonic Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sound,
John Lydon,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.