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 Latvia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Grass Roots,
The Sound,
X-102,
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
The Martian,
The Standells,
Flipper,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
Amon Düül,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Howard Jones,
David Bowie,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick May,
Duran Duran,
Mantronix,
China Crisis,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
Albert Ayler,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultimate Spinach,
David McCallum,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
Cal Tjader,
Procol Harum,
Barrington Levy,
Sandy B,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thee Headcoats,
Swans,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.