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 Botswana and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the punk 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
The Busters,
Desert Stars,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fugazi,
Mandrill,
Yaz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eddi Front,
Harmonia,
Malaria!,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Suburban Knight,
The Smiths,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mad Mike,
The Buckinghams,
The Divine Comedy,
Lindisfarne,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy Collins,
MC5,
Underground Resistance,
Make Up,
Johnny Osbourne,
Anthony Braxton,
FM Einheit,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Beau Brummels,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Gabor Szabo,
Sugar Minott,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roger Hodgson,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mission of Burma,
Marine Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
The Trojans,
Blancmange,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.