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 Pakistan and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Popol Vuh to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agitation Free,
Tubeway Army,
The Human League,
Connie Case,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
Altered Images,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Model 500,
Tears for Fears,
Piero Umiliani,
Shuggie Otis,
The Beau Brummels,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Groovy Waters,
The Blackbyrds,
Thompson Twins,
Brick,
Roxette,
Gil Scott Heron,
Q and Not U,
Rotary Connection,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Livin' Joy,
The Doors,
the Human League,
Faraquet,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Goldenarms,
10cc,
Ken Boothe,
Tommy Roe,
Intrusion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Byrd,
Al Stewart,
The Five Americans,
Barrington Levy,
Kenny Larkin,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.