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 Andorra and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Vogues,
Heaven 17,
Public Enemy,
L. Decosne,
Blake Baxter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Procol Harum,
a-ha,
Kool Moe Dee,
Theoretical Girls,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Loose Ends,
Minny Pops,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Soul II Soul,
Faust,
Barry Ungar,
Spoonie Gee,
Desert Stars,
Duran Duran,
JFA,
Scientists,
DNA,
Altered Images,
Roxette,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Lungfish,
Godley & Creme,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harmonia,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Little Man,
Stiv Bators,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cybotron,
D'Angelo,
Symarip,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oblivians,
Flash Fearless,
Rufus Thomas,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
The Skatalites,
Ronan,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.