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 Panama and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ludus to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Interpol,
Visage,
Scrapy,
Suburban Knight,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
The Fugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thompson Twins,
The Red Krayola,
Boz Scaggs,
Lee Hazlewood,
FM Einheit,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Qualms,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Rekid,
Yaz,
Procol Harum,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
Faust,
The Remains,
The American Breed,
The Gladiators,
Joensuu 1685,
Deakin,
Ponytail,
Schoolly D,
Eric B and Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tom Boy,
Stockholm Monsters,
CMW,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Cybotron,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
DNA,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.